No Longer
by Unquestionable Honor
Summary: Zuko and Katara use Mai's disappearance as a cover to look for Ursa. Along the investigation, not only do they find something deeper in themselves, they find clues that reflect a hiding consipiracy planning to destroy the new world balance. ZK, TA.
1. Chapter 1

**Spoilers: the Finale.**

**Summary: Takes place after the finale. Starts with Kataang and Maiko, ends with Zutara. Mai mysteriously disappears. Zuko asks Katara to help him find both Mai and his mother because their fates may have been tied. The journey brings them together.**

**A/N: It might be an overused plotline. But there's always a wicked, wicked twist ;)**

**Disclaimer: I WISH D; Avatar: TLA belongs to Nick and Viacom and Bryke. 'nuff said.**

**Edit: I editted it. I changed a few things in preparation for the next chapter ;) If you can find some changes, maybe I can post the next one sooner :D Hahah. Maybe..**

**Edit #2 (11-19-08): I was SO bothered by this chapter for a long time. So I changed, editted, added alot. You guys should read it again :D I think it's much better. And tell me if you guys like it better.**

* * *

Katara stood on the cold, bare tundra as strands of loose hair whipped across her face. Though the bitter temperatures numbed her ears, she couldn't help but grin.

It was only months ago that they had ended the war. Months ago that Aang had bent former Fire Lord Ozai's firebending out of existence; that Azula was instituted into an asylum; that Zuko was crowned the new Fire Lord.

And now she stood back in her homeland. Back where it all began, the South Pole. She, Aang, and her father returned to help build up their village. Gram-Pakku was alongside Gran-gran—who was commandeering the new construction for a new bridge over the barren spot where, almost a year ago, Zuko first threateningly trespassed the ice and entered the village.

But that was so long ago, and now she and Zuko shared only a platonic relationship. Had they spent more time with each other, maybe something would have blossomed. But she had yet to establish her relationship with Aang. She had accepted his love for her.

Of course she loved him back.

They have stood beside each other since the beginning.

Only, she stood over him. Like a saber-toothed moose lion to her young cub. Even as their relationship blossomed, she tried very hard to get rid of that feeling: a mother's worry. It didn't matter that it was the end of the hundred year war. Making peace was just the beginning. And that included loose ends. Loose ends that could hurt Aang.

And so she kept protecting him.

Toph's words would always come back to haunt her—on the night they saw that play on Ember Island.

_It's all painfully true._

Katara couldn't deny it. It _was _painful.

* * *

"Katara?"

Her gaze fell from the fire and turned her head ever so slightly to the gray-eyed boy behind her.

"I…" he hesitated, "We need to talk."

She motioned a hand to him, "Sit down, Aang."

"Actually, I was wondering if we could take a walk."

A quick second passed as she glanced at him. Another when she peered at the warm, crackling fire. Then she took her parka off the hook it resided and stepped outside.

They walked in awkward silence to the construction site of the bridge. It was nearly sundown. And from a distance, Aang and Katara can make out the figures of the waterbenders cleaning up and leaving the site. As they reached the half-finished ice bridge, Aang stopped in his tracks. His eyes were downcast. Then he took a deep breath and gathered his gray-eyed stare at the setting sun.

"Do you love me?" his head swerved to meet her blue eyes.

She jerked her head up at the question, "You know I do."

But at the instance she said that, she folded her hands in front of her as she stood, and she hung her head slightly; blue eyes glued to the snow beneath her shoes.

In all honestly, she knew that statement was true. But it held a different meaning. And this same meaning held less the more she said it.

Through the months that they've been together after the war, all those "I love you's" somehow had a deeper meaning to them than the way it's supposed to mean on a surface level. Having it said while already in a relationship—saying it to your companion is self-explanatory.

Aang, being the shy little kid he is, would say it sheepishly—but nonetheless mean every word of it. Sometimes it came out a little too soft, or sometimes too blunt. Katara did not know what this was supposed to mean. She mostly assumed it was the awkwardness in the beginnings of a relationship.

Yet, after one month together, and even more months after that—he kept the uneasiness in his tone. And she started losing it—not her mind, but the meaning. It's like they couldn't enforce any more than the friendship they had started before.

Yes, she loved him. She meant it. Then why was it that it felt like she was forcing the meaning every time she _did_ say it?

Why didn't it feel right?

Aang ambled behind her and slid his arms around her waist. He barely reached her height at this time of year, and he can barely rest his chin on her shoulder. But as his hands worked his way to hold her wrists, she snaked free of his embrace to come about him eye-to-eye.

"Aang, I-", and before she can finish her say, he gripped her shoulders and pulled her into a kiss. Her stubbornness stopped him from getting any farther than her lips and so she pulled away.

Now it was her turn to rest her hands on his shoulders.

"You need to quit doing that, Aang", she said, "A kiss does not settle problems!"

She chose her words carefully, "not under these circumstances."

The kisses, too, got too awkward. How strange would a girl feel if she had to lean a little bit lower just to kiss her mate?

Not to say it wasn't awkward before—the kisses she gave to him were friend-like, on the cheek. They way she received his kisses were friend-like, too—even though he meant to do it with a deeper love.

Not only that—it was the fact that throughout their adventures together, they've only treated each other like friends. Well, she noted that he showed the bashfulness around her. But he was a little kid, what more can she do than let it pass? She let it grow instead. But only because they grew to be closer as best friends.

Aang broke her train of thought with another whine. "What circumstances?" Aang retorted, "Katara, I thought you-"

"I thought so too, Aang."

His melancholy gaze wandered from her eyes to the white snow beneath them.

"I don't get it," he said, "After the war, you kissed me, and I was so happy and I sensed that…" Aang's words faded off his tongue as he summoned up the courage to look up at her. His plummeting heart demanded an explanation.

Katara sighed.

"Do you remember the play about us that we saw on Ember Island?"

He recalled, and Aang's stomach flipped.

She continued, "And when you asked me about us…"

Aang waited for her to finish with spiritless eyes. It hurt her to see him that way, yet Katara went on, "I really was confused. You have no idea-"

"Then why, Katara? Why did you kiss me again?" he interrupted.

"Aang, I was so happy."

That was the truth. Just not all of it.

She wanted to try something. And she thought it worked, at first—simple as that.

"I was happy too."

"That's not it. Let me finish," she stopped him from drawing any more conclusions, "I was so happy. Yes, we ended the war and yes, we finally achieved world peace. Ozai was defeated, Zuko was crowned," her eyes softened and she broke out a small grin at the thought of Zuko being Fire Lord. Oh, how he had changed.

Aang almost saw that as a sign. But before he could reply, she spoke again.

"But most importantly, I was so happy that you were safe." Katara thought about the conversation she had with Zuko on Appa. They were both worried that Aang wouldn't make it. Though they knew he would come through, it was heart breaking to think about it—to think about... if it happened the other way.

He conjured up a smile, but inside, his heart sank. His gray eyes met hers, and she saw the smile fade.

"You only see me as a little brother."

"You're my best friend, Aang."

"I understand."

Aang was her best friend. And that was the awkwardness in the relationship they tried to establish.

She felt awkward that he was exactly her size when they hugged. She wanted someone to envelope her in a warm embrace, and place his chin comfortably over her head. She wanted a man to bend down and arch his neck to place his wanting lips on her soft ones; or for her to tiptoe up to his height to reach his passionate kiss. Even if she waited for Aang to reach this stage, she couldn't let go of the awkwardness.

Yes, she wanted a best friend, too. Aang was that friend. They grew up as bestfriends. They were only best friends. Just like Sokka and Toph.

But Katara can never be serious with Aang. The only mature conversations she could ever have with him was never any more than "growing up" problems. When it came even to political issues—his Avatar wisdom came in handy many times, but a lot of the times, too, he came to his own kiddish senses.

She gave him advice, like a mother. Or even like an older sister.

She can only stand from the sidelines and watch over him while he had his fun. He was the little boy she saved from the iceberg. And always will be.

They enveloped each other in one last embrace. And then Katara felt Aang pull away. She watched him trudge the snow. It was now night time, and Yue shone brilliantly in the dim heavens. Aang's figure disappeared into the shadows. And suddenly, Katara was left beside the unfinished bridge. Alone, she sighed, and let her gaze travel beyond the horizon of the crisp sea.

For some reason, she wished this bridge would finish sooner.

* * *

Katara woke the next morning and felt surprisingly lighter.

They night before had been an ending to a young, bold, and bald chapter in her life. And now, a new chapter—of blinding light, so she cannot see the end of it—had opened in front of her. So, symbolically, she started reading it.

She sat upright in her bed and took a good look around her room, wrinkling the fur-trimmed bed sheets that lay over her. She kept waterbending scrolls framed in her quarters (including the one she stole), a bookshelf in between these frames. She acknowledged the vanity dresser and her closet in one corner, decorated with the water tribe emblem carved into dark whalebone. Her desk was crowded with papers and trinkets from their travels. Zuko had given her family priceless jewels, a few ships that hung at the harbor, and antique porcelain pottery. He had also given her a small black satin box with golden hinges on one side and the Fire symbol on top. Katara hadn't opened it yet, but she assumed there waited just another one of the Fire Nation's priceless, common, jewelry.

She finally took notice of the note that lay on the little table drawer to the right of her bed. Eyes widened, she took it promptly.

_Dearest Katara, _

_I'm glad we had that talk last night. Just know that… I still love you_—_as a best friend. I'll always love you. I'm still unsure of any deeper meaning. But, you make me realize a lot of things. I guess, I still have some things I need to sort out by myself. Thanks._

_Your best friend,_

_Aang_

Katara's slender hand reached over her heart. She was heart-lightedly happy that Aang understood her. And she understood that Aang probably went to an isolated, tranquil location to meditate his thoughts. She was glad they came to a settlement. She was glad he was safe.

Katara dressed in her long blue dress and promptly studied her features in the mirror of her vanity dresser as she tied her long, curled locks of hair into a half-up, half-down hairstyle. Then she took her hair loopies and settled them in place. Her cerulean eyes approved of her primped appearance and then searched for her blue, white fur-lined parka—to which she spied on the hook once more and put it over her delicate body.

* * *

She walked the path to which she knew led to the city hall; where her father worked, and where she—the new ambassador of the Southern Water Tribe—employed.

The South Pole was starting to look much like its sister tribe, the North Pole. Even though the constructions are rebuilding it bigger, Katara's homeland was still much smaller.

Tied to her duties, she was up rather early. So few lingered outside to experience the crisp, fresh sea air. Elderly women took notice of her and waved morning greetings. Katara was the proper-mannered lady to be cordial. _Peasant, my sass_, as she thought of Zuko and his remarks of her as a Filthy Peasant.

Her deep appreciation let her take in the beauty of the South Pole as she reached the steps of the hall and entered the hall.

Katara snaked through the corridors. Since the hall was small, she knew her way around like the back of her hand. It was new, but simple. And she admired it that way.

She slid the white furnished door to what she knew to be Chief Hakoda's office. It was locked.

Katara pressed her ear to the barrier between her and Hakoda and heard murmurings of:

"-at night."

"And no one found her the next morning?" It was her dad speaking.

"The snatcher left no traces." Katara knew that voice. It was low and raspy and belonged to an old, old friend. General Iroh spoke again, "We believe that Lady-"

"Dad?" Katara spoke from behind the locked door. She heard footsteps coming from behind the door. Without a second thought, she removed her ear from the door and bent down into a respectful bow.

Her father opened the door, "Katara," he bowed back. And she straightened herself to meet the eyes of General Iroh. They were soft and calm, but a hint of sorrow lurked beneath them. She bowed to the elder, and then recollected herself to meet him with an embrace.

"General Iroh, what brings you to the South Pole?"

"It is a sight for sore eyes to see you again, Lady Katara," said Iroh, "Fire Lord Zuko sent me here."

Katara gathered a concerned look at her father. He nodded, and his eyes confirmed. Zuko never sent Iroh here unless it was for serious business. This was no trade agreement.

Katara said, "I apologize for overhearing, but I heard that someone was kidnapped?"

"Snatched," he said, "Lady Mai was snatched at night."

Her father joined in, "No one heard or saw anything at all. They found her gone the next morning."

"When did this happen?" she asked.

Iroh answered, "About five days ago. Zuko—Fire Lord Zuko sent me here immediately for help," he eyed Katara, "he wanted no delay in catching the criminal."

* * *

The conversation had lasted until the afternoon—where they settled for lunch. At this time of day, everyone was up-and-at-'em. They went out to eat. General Iroh, of course, settled for a teashop. It was the only one in town. And it was called _Hikoma's Whale-Tailed Tea_.

"Where is the Avatar, by the way?" Uncle asked out of nowhere.

Katara's eyes broadened ever so slightly, recalling the night before. She paused for a while to think of an answer, "He—He's going somewhere in the Earth Kingdom for a meditation break."

Her father looked at her. She received an impression of, "How-come-I-don't-know-of-this?"

Iroh looked at her with an old, gray eyebrow raised. Katara put on her most sincerest smile, hoping he knew that she was telling the truth. And she was...partly.

It seemed the old general reached a conclusion when he lessened the stress in his expression, "That's good," he smiled as sincerely as he could.

Over two cups of jasmine tea and a few sweet kona cakes, Katara had agreed to leave her home to help in the Fire Nation (though she wasn't exactly sure what for). It took Iroh a lot of convincing—and many, many promises.

* * *

Progress was happening so fast. Some bad, some good.

It was just a night and two days ago that she had to close the chapter of Aang. It was just two days ago that Iroh informed her of Mai's mysterious disappearance. And it was months ago that Zuko—Fire Lord Zuko—had promised to rebuild a world of love and peace. She thought she had just left the Fire Nation, and now she found herself coming back.

The Fire Nation ship that brought her there pulled into a private harbor close to the Palace. She half expected Zuko to be there, but she was still half surprised to find him not greeting her.

She came down the gang plank and into the Fire Nation as Ambassador Katara. Therefore, she wore her blue tunic to represent her country. Her soft, curly-brown locks were properly styled down. She walked lady-like with her hands in her sleeves as the guards, along with Iroh, escorted her to the private entrance of the palace.

* * *

Katara wasn't at all surprised to see the vast halls of the Fire Palace. But she couldn't help but marvel at the immense colors of red and gold that decorated the room. There were priceless vases sitting upon high pedestals. Red, gold-trimmed curtains draped the dripping sunlight intruding the halls. Paintings of the royal family hung high on the walls. And the doors, those many doors. She wondered what bewilderment hid behind those mysterious entrances.

Katara took the offered arm of General Iroh. And he led her to the great, black wooden doors to her right. There was a blue snaking dragon styled on its smooth surface. Katara got little chance to admire it.

Beyond the opened door lay a corridor that stretched two Appas long. Along with it were small twists and turns that Katara had no time to ponder about. She followed Iroh past some entrances. One Appa later, they stood in front of a two-door entrance. General Iroh knocked. Two seconds of no answer, and he peeked in.

"Um… where are we going?" Katara asked.

"Oh! I am sorry for the inconvenience, Lady Katara," Iroh said, "I thought we might find my nephew in here. This room is his private study."

"Is he not in there?" she pointed.

"I'm afraid not," he stroked his beard lightly with his finger and thumb, "but I know of another place."

They made their way down the hallway, once again. It was the same corridor, but it opened up into a stretched patio that revealed a beautiful garden. In its center lay a pond filled with turtleducks, surrounded by cherry blossom trees and fire lily gardens. By what Katara assumed, the royal chambers neighbored around the garden—its windows facing and beholding the scenery from inside.

* * *

Iroh still led Katara down the patio, acknowledging her high regard for the landscape.

He looked around—less of appreciation, more of curiosity.

But the end of the passage came, then a slight left. Katara's assumption had been correct. The surrounding compartments of the garden _were _the royal chambers.

Iroh halted to the second door on the left. The doors all looked the same: dark red mahogany silhouetted with black and gold.

This time, Iroh did not knock. Fire Lord Zuko opened the door. He must have spied them as they passed the garden earlier.

"Fire Lord Zuko," General Iroh bowed, and then Zuko did.

"I thought I would find you in the garden," said Iroh.

"I was."

Iroh left them in their privacy. After they made obeisance to each other, Zuko said, "Lady Katara, How are you?" he quirked up the corners of his lips.

Katara's azure eyes brightened and smiled. She stepped up to gather him in an embrace, "It's great to see you, too, Zuko," he heartwarmingly returned the affection. Zuko was no longer the anger-fueled boy she battled through his chase all over the world. No longer the face of the enemy. And although that had only been nearly a year ago, Zuko had matured most of all. Katara was really happy to see him.

"This is Mai's room," he said. Katara nodded as she noted the queen-sized bed, the shelves and drawers to the left, and the washroom. There was a painting of Zuko and Mai framed on the wall. _She really liked him._

"Are you okay?" she put a hand on his shoulder.

"Never better," he remarked, but his fists clenched only slightly.

Zuko's expression changed from stressed to calm after one exhale. But she still spied a glimmer of gloom in those golden eyes. She caught a quick glance at him. And for a moment, _only_ a moment, it was awkward.

"Um... Let's go to the garden," he suggested, "I need some air."

Katara felt that she needed to be beside him as they walked. She could tell he needed comforting—and something else, she couldn't pinpoint what—but Zuko walked diligently with his chin up and eyes forward. The silence was killing her. What she didn't know was: it was killing Zuko inside, too.

"Zuko," she said and he glanced at her, "Why do you need me here?"

They stopped in the middle of the patio, face-to-face.

"I need your help," he said, resting his hands on her slender shoulders.

"In finding Mai?"

He paused. "You trust me, right?"

Katara considered that question. She recalled the journey they went on together—to scoop out Yon Rha, her mother's killer. He willingly supported her. And she knew how much faith he put in her. Especially in the catacombs under Ba Sing Se—

"I trust you, Zuko." she said. His eyes softened, and the pressure on his shoulders lessened.

"And I trust you, completely, Katara." At this time, she was glad her hair was down. It covered the red-blemished ears that were burning behind it. She knew her family and friends trusted her endlessly, but hearing it from an old enemy warmed her heart.

She snapped out of it. This was serious business.

And what came next...

She nodded confidently to these adrenaline-pumping words:

"I need you to help me find my mother."

* * *

**R&R, please :3**

**If you have instructive critism, please say so. I still have some editting to do. I've found a few errors already xP I'm gonna go fix those.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary: In the event of Mai's disappearance months after the war, Zuko goes to Katara to seek both Mai and his mother. All the while, an opposing conspirancy goes up against the new rule of the Fire Nation.**

**Spoilers: the Finale.**

**Chapter Two! This is kind of a background story of what happened to Zuko. So don't get time confused.**

**Disclaimer: Avatar TLA ain't mine. It's Bryke's and Nick's and Viacom's. Blah blah blah.**

**EDIT: I changed a few details! Sorry! I just felt like it needed to be there. Like a foreshadowing of some sort ;) Little, little details.**

**[EDIT #2 11:25:08] Another EDIT!!!! HEEHEE. I changed some more. _Especially_ the scene where he finds Mai run away. (For new readers, ignore this.) ANYWAY, I hope you guys read this part over again if you felt unsatisfied last time.**

* * *

"I should count myself lucky. The new Fire Lord has graced me with his presence in my lowly prison cell," Ozai kept his raggedy body limp on the cold ground.

"You should consider yourself lucky that the Avatar spared your life!" Fire Lord Zuko sneered.

Ozai's glare averted, grunting adamantly as he remained dormant on the floor.

Zuko continued, "Banishing me was the best thing you could do for my life. It put me on the right path." His voice hardened, "Perhaps your time in here will do the same for you."

Ozai's scowl only deepened, "Why did you really come here?" he submitted in barely a whisper.

"Because you're going to tell me something," Zuko affirmed. His golden eyes narrowed dangerously—enunciating venom with each syllable, "Where is my mother?"

Ozai straightened only very slightly, "I don't know."

"Don't lie to me!" he demanded fiercely. But Ozai remained silent.

After what seemed like an eternity of bare tension, Fire Lord Zuko stormed off unsatisfied.

* * *

A warm atmosphere filled the room.

He strode around the room in his jade Earth Kingdom robes—serving tea blithely to his Uncle and friends. He wore not the Fire Lord's royal top-knot, but kept his ebony hair dangling about his gold eyes—a style that could mark only Zuko.

But behind those serene golden eyes; behind that light-hearted smile—laid the vivid flashback of his intense encounter with his cold-blooded father.

In those memorable moments that he would forget this scene, it would crawl back to him. It throbbed in the back of his mind. He thought he would lose it.

At sunset they saw Katara and Aang share their moment on the balcony together. Everyone was watching from the sidelines. Sokka had snaked an arm around his beloved Suki while she rested her head into the crook of his neck. Toph stayed inside and insisted that it was all too sissy for her—but a faint blush still tainted her cheeks.

Uncle Iroh gave his nephew a look. Zuko recognized the knowing smile. And at first, he thought it was about Mai and himself. But in all actuality, he couldn't tell—it was ambiguous.

Mai cupped her hand in his. And while he enjoyed the feeling as he watched, the flashback suddenly pulled him back into the deep recesses of his mind.

The act of watching Katara sparked it back. She reminded him of his mother: protective, long-suffering, strong-willed, beautiful. Their first heartfelt moment together was in the Crystal Catacombs below Ba Sing Se.

He felt like, throughout his whole life, that she was the first one to understand him and care about him besides his fatherly Uncle and his mother. Katara was there with him, willing to help him start a new life—without his hateful scar.

Now Mai—Mai was faithful. But she lacked the understanding that he could only get from those who recognized his burdens: his burdens as _Zuko_, not just _Fire Lord_ Zuko. Though he had Mai, and she had Aang—he knew, they both knew, how deep their understanding was in struggling from losing a mother.

He would always know that Katara was a dear companion to him. His relationship with Katara was compassion. With Mai: fidelity. And only fidelity.

But it was Mai, after all. So he let it pass.

* * *

Time passed in months as he continued his reign as Fire Lord. It was months after peace treaties, months after pulling back troops, months after their celebration at Ba Sing Se. It was month after month after month with his interrogating Ozai. And all the time he would think about his father's answer: "I don't know."

Zuko refused to believe it.

Only one day, he noticed that it happened to slip his mind for once. He was in a day-long meeting with the officials of the Fire Nation. His Royal Council was also there. He was half asleep during the economic update, though he didn't show it. He listened intently, but not interestingly, to the trade agreements between the swamp people and his nation. Alligator skin was popular fashion, and the meat was a necessity here. There have been small crimes of robbery throughout the smaller districts, the police guards were still working on it.

He thought of Mai, which led to Katara, which led to his mother. And it hit him again, after the tiring meeting, it agitated him endlessly. It was time to end this.

He wanted answers.

So he came to the one other, possibly last and only source.

* * *

Her wrists were once smooth and delicate.

Now they were chafed, reddened, and calloused from the lead iron cuffs that bound them together. The cuffs were dense and constricting.

If she hadn't squirmed and strained herself, her royally-pampered wrists and ankles wouldn't have become so damaged and ugly.

They kept Azula in a strait jacket. Any firebending or even lightning would be absorbed in her bindings and would only hurt her more. They locked her in a stone, empty room. She was kept in the most secured institution of the Fire Nation.

She kept her frown depraved as she heard the metal door click outside her confinement.

Zuko came into the premises, but only stayed outside her cell. What separated them was a small glass window that revealed Azula's misfortunate state.

"Azula," his raspy voice was slightly muffled. But it was still clear enough to understand.

Just like her father, she slacked listlessly. But she smirked at him. Those full lips she once had were now dry and cracked.

"Zu-zu," she replied apathetically, "I hate you," and her smirk twisted into a scowl.

"I spoke to Ozai," he said.

"So?"

"About mom."

Her narrowed eyes broadened, but barely. Her frown deepened, "So what?" she spat.

"What happened to mom?"

"She was banished," she replied simply.

"Did she-"

"Who cares? She was stupid for protecting you, anyway. You were always weak. You were a waste of her time," her voice lowered, "She deserved exile."

"What happened to her?" Zuko demanded.

A knowing smile crept on her face, "What did father say?"

"He said he didn't know… But he's a liar! Just like you!"

Azula cackled sweetly, "Oh, Zu-zu." He glared daggers at her as she shook her head, "You would never understand."

Zuko just didn't get it.

Azula was once the sharp dictator. Not a single spot on her helmet. Not a single flaw in her tactics. Not a single flinch in her expression.

How could she lose it?

Ruthless and all, she was still his little sister.

"You're crazy."

He turned around to leave when he spotted a glimmer at the corner of his eye.

Of what, he didn't know.

But he didn't stop until he reached the exit.

He barely heard her faint, last words:

"And you're a failure."

* * *

"Ugh!" Zuko roared fervently as he slammed his clenched fists on the wall. Mounds of papers and documents were piled up high on his desk. But in one vicious arm sweep, they all crumbled to the floor. Zuko blatantly sat in his chair and buried his scarred face in his hands. Two other figures remained silent in his frustration.

"Prince Z-," Iroh chided, but started too late before he can realize his mistake. "Fire Lord Zuko." It felt like he was at seas again with his hot-blooded nephew. Zuko vented hot steam out his nostrils. "My nephew," he tried again.

"What, Uncle?" he clamored, "What else is there?!"

"Zuko, you are taking this too harshly."

"But I have no leads," he cried out, "I don't know what to do."

"Zuko," Mai tried to console him. She put a hand on his shoulder, and turned him to meet her gaze.

Zuko was young. A growing, young man. To put him in the Fire Lord's position was heavy, but Zuko took on the responsibility on his own volition. It was his destiny, despite the adversity. Overbearing stress was always his attitude. It made him always grumpy.

He had gone overboard one day by insulting her: his girlfriend. It hurt her.

But she dared not ask him what was wrong. He carried a whole nation on his shoulders. Letting him go rampant on his tirade was probably the best she could do for him, she reasoned.

She would try to make him feel better when they get the chance to be alone. He liked their alone moments together, right? It'll all go away.

It was all just an enigma to her.

...

In all that time she mulled over him, it felt like an eternity. She had almost forgotten about the situation. His shoulders slumped lower.

"I think it's better you forget her, Zuko." She cupped his cheeks and felt them grow hot.

Maybe that helped him feel better?

"What do you know?!" he refuted, "You're just a big blah!"

No, she made him angrier.

It's not like it was her fault. She was _trying_.

Her eyes narrowed as her lips firmed. This idiot needed to get somewhere and move on. "You know, Zuko, I'm only trying to help."

"By doing what? Making me forget about her? My mother?!"

"Look, I care about you-"

"That's not enough, Mai. Why can't you understand?"

"Understand what, Zuko?! Have you ever considered that maybe your mother is dead? It's been almost four years!"

"Augh!" he pushed her away. The fire in the furnace grew even higher. "What is it with you?! To expect her dead is inevitable to you! What happened to hope? Faithfulness?!"

"Zuko, I-"

"You what? You don't know anything! You don't feel anything!" his breath came short and his pulse was sky-rocketing.

Normally, Mai would refute just as quickly. But he was her own mate.

She paled even more at his words. And all she could come up with was:

"I love you, Zuko."

He stared deeply into her blank, gray eyes. Mai hoped he could see the truth in them.

But she was hesitant. It wasn't like her to be this way.

"No. I'm done with you," his gaze averted, "I refuse to believe you or anyone else. My mom is alive. I can feel it."

Mai was internally aghast at their fight. She felt herself shaking slightly. One thought overlapped in her mind: _What did I do?_

She was trying her best to help. Honestly. It was Zuko's hard-headedness that he can't be strong enough to accept that.

Or maybe, she realized, it's not in her to be Zuko's confidant.

"I'm going to bed," she finally said. Mai exited his study.

It was one of those times again; she could never understand that heart of his. He didn't need her, she felt him say. She was just a big blah.

"Zuko," said Uncle Iroh—who was forgotten amidst the fight. The old general walked slowly to his nephew, wanting to reach out a hand and rest it on his heavy shoulders.

Zuko turned to look at his uncle—this man who stuck by him and treated him a thousand times better a father than Ozai could ever be.

"Uncle, I'm going to find my mom. No matter what."

* * *

"Ugh," Zuko groaned as he pinched the bridge of his nose. It's been another long morning with his council meeting. That Counselor Chien was getting on his last nerve.

Zuko arrived at the doors of his study. The familiar aroma of ginseng tea lingered around. He opened the doors languidly in all expectancy to find the old man with his beloved tea.

_Surprise, surprise._ Zuko rolled his eyes.

"Uncle."

"Lord Zuko, you don't look too happy, " Iroh greeted him.

"I'm never happy," he sighed. Uncle was mocking him again. It always felt wrong to hear him call him 'Lord Zuko'.

"So… Lord Zuko," Uncle jested once more, "How was your morning meeting with the Royal Council?"

"Chien," he murmured under his breath.

"Hmm?"

"Counselor Chien. He wants to send troops to those formerly colonized Earth Kingdom villages. It seems that there's been a dispute between Fire Nation settlers and the old villagers."

"Oh, that Chien. He was a part of your father's council, you know. Very prominent in his demands."

Zuko scoffed, "I know that. Maybe I should kick him out."

"His family has been in our council for over three generations, Zuko. He is tradition. You cannot dismiss tradition. Especially among your people, you have yet to gain their approval," Iroh rambled on.

"I know that, too!" Zuko quipped, "It wouldn't hurt though…" _I'll send an assassin_, he thought.

"Zuko," Iroh scolded. He seemed to read his mind. "Do not worry, nephew. It will pass sooner or later," he chuckled.

Zuko grunted and crossed his arms.

"How about a game of Pai Sho?" Uncle offered.

"No," he rejected. Iroh frowned. "I have business to attend to," said Zuko, "Have you seen Mai?"

"I haven't seen her all morning. Perhaps she is still in her quarters."

"Right," he agreed. She was probably ignoring him. Again. As usual.

Well, especially after last night.

_That is so like her_, he thought.

* * *

Zuko trudged on to the royal chambers. He supposed he should apologize to her for calling her a big blah. That was his word of the day—or rather, word of the season.

But he deserved an apology, too. How dare she tell him that his mother was—he dared not even think about it.

Mai was wrong. Dead wrong.

His mother is alive.

He tried to play out the scene in his head. How would he apologize to her?

_Hey, um… Mai. I'm sorry. For, um, calling you blah. A big one. I mean, a big blah. Oh, and um… It was wrong of me. I'm sorry. Again._

He palmed his forehead and slid his hand down his face. _Why am I so bad at being good?_ The scene in his head was overplayed. He would apologize, blah blah blah, she would accept, blah blah blah, silence, blah blah blah, kiss and make up, the end. It was stupid. It was stupid the way they would solve their fights. It didn't solve anything. They had no communication between each other. It was impossible for her to understand. He had to admit, though he mentally kicked himself for it, she _was _a big blah. Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.

Saying a word so often tends to lose its meaning. Yet the word 'blah' had no meaning. So caught up in his world of blah, he hadn't noticed that he reached his destination.

Zuko stood in front of her doors. Mai stayed in a guest room. There was no reason to keep her out of his mother's; she was his girlfriend, after all.

But after last night, he had a reason to keep her out now.

Zuko did not bother knocking. In a subtle way, he got a little mad thinking about last night.

"Mai?" he creaked the doors open just a smidge to listen for any sign of her. Silence.

He opened the doors wider and studied the interior. Empty. The bed was unmade. He stepped inside and investigated. The window seemed closed. But he took a peek closer. The curtains were drawn slightly, and the window was, in fact, open—but barely.

_Kidnapped?_

He checked her closet, and her travelling clothes were missing. Zuko checked the small drawer in her desk. It was where she kept her knives. They were gone. Would a snatcher steal her knives, too?

He looked around once more, quickly. There were no signs of a struggle. And he finally noticed that her travel pack was gone. The bed was unmade, but it was merely as if she got out of bed.

"Guards! Maids! Someone!" he demanded from inside Mai's room. And a maid came in from across the hall, cleaning the other guest room.

She bowed deeply, "Fire Lord Zuko."

"Call my uncle here. He should be in my study," he instructed.

"Yes, my Lord," she scurried out the door.

"Tell him to hurry," he added.

She turned around and bowed once more before dashing off again. "Yes, Fire Lord Zuko," she replied.

Zuko watched the maid fade out of sight.

_She ran away..._

That's what he'll tell Uncle.

Zuko hesitated.

What if he told Uncle she was snatched?

Well... She wouldn't be in the way for his quest in finding his mother. That's good, right?

_No!_ His conscience told him.

Right, it's wrong to think that way.

_But it _was_ her choice to run away_.

That's true. It wasn't his business to deal with her anymore. It was _her_ choice.

_Uncle Iroh must be half way here already._ Did he have time?

Instinct took over.

Reluctantly, but stealthily, Zuko went through her bed and roughed up the bed sheets some more. Then he trashed his way through a path that could be noticed as a struggle on the way to the window. He looked around once more, no one was watching.

Zuko straightened himself out just in the nick of time. Uncle Iroh bustled through those large doors.

"The maid told me that you sent for me," he huffed, "I'm here, now. What happened?"

"Mai," said Zuko.

Iroh looked around the room. "Was she kidnapped?"

"Yes," Zuko gulped. He might have said that too fast. "Snatched away at night."

"How come no one heard her?"

"I don't know," said Zuko, "But look, there are signs of a struggle." He pointed at the ruffled bed sheets and the broken path leading up to the window. "Her kidnappers must've been made for their job."

"Oh," said Iroh, carefully. He studied Zuko, "Nephew, are you okay?"

"Yes. I mean, no! I'm worried!" he admitted rather fiercely.

"Should I set up more guards around the palace?"

Zuko forced his nerves to calm down, "Yes," he spoke leniently, "And go pack your travelling clothes."

"Another around-the-world shopping spree?" Iroh perked up. Zuko slapped his forehead and slid his hand down his face. _Typical._

"No, Uncle. I need you to… visit a friend," said Zuko, "from the South Pole."

Iroh raised an eyebrow and smiled knowingly, "I'll get right to it, my Lord."

* * *

**Yup. I added that stupid humor about Iroh and his shopping addiction xD It needed it. But I think I slapped it on too fast.**

**So, review! It takes me about two weeks for another chapter. But maybe if I charge you guys, it'll go faster. How about...I get two or three more reviews, and the next one will come up sooner ;D**

**If you think I need to change some details, please PLEASE let me know. I'll acknowledge it. I humbly accept constructive critism.**

**-SHL**


	3. Chapter 3

**Here's mah promise! Hahah, before the month ends xD Lots of Zuko/Katara interaction.**

**Summary: In the event of Mai's disappearance months after the war, Zuko goes to Katara to seek both Mai and his mother. All the while, an opposing conspirancy goes up against the new rule of the Fire Nation.**

**Spoilers: the Finale.**

**Disclaimer: Avatar TLA ain't mine. It's Bryke's and Nick's and Viacom's. Blah blah blah, etc.**

* * *

Warm.

He was so warm.

"You don't know how much this means to me," said Zuko. He enveloped her in an embrace. In reality, Zuko knew he was wrong. Katara perfectly understood how he felt. He knew, and he could tell--because she didn't even stiffen at his affectionate gesture. She stayed calm, relaxed, but confident.

"I _do _know, Zuko," she laughed--because she knew that he knew it, too.

They still stood on the patio, but casually made their way together into the garden. She followed him to the turtleduck pond and he sat under a large tree--it was very old, but grand. Katara continued to stand as she watched two turtleducks cuddle behind a rock. She suddenly remembered, it was still winter, they had a reason to cuddle. But the sight of the two love birds relaxed every inch of muscle in her body, and she smiled.

"I needed this," said Katara.

Zuko looked up, "Huh?"

"I really needed a vacation."

Zuko snorted, "Well, whatever the reason, I'm really glad you agreed to help. Even though I can't really see an investigation mission as a vacation."

Katara shifted her breezy smile to Zuko, "Think of it as payback."

Now Zuko scoffed, "For what?" He knew the answer, but he wanted to hear her say it anyway.

"Oh, please, Zuko. Don't play mind games, again. You know what I mean," _For helping me redeem my mother_, she reminded him in her mind. She crossed her arms, but Zuko just smirked.

"Did you bring your travelling pack?" he asked.

"Actually, Meeting the Fire Lord is a great privilege! So I packed _only_ my nicest ambassador robes to--," she rambled on and caught eye contact with him. But Zuko raised his good eyebrow. He knew her game, so she admitted retentively, "Of course, I did! You know I did."

Back at the South Pole, Uncle Iroh advised her to pack her travelling clothes. That included her twin water flasks, mission robes, and even her black gear for late night sneaking. She thought she would use it to scoop out Mai's snatchers. What she didn't know was that she would be using it to find a whole different person--a more important person, Zuko's mother. This train of thought brought her down to business. She came here to accomplish a goal. It was time they start soon.

Her once carefree smile deepened into a straight line. Zuko seemed to read her mood, for he looked hesitant.

Katara questioned seriously, "Do you have any leads?"

* * *

Zuko was stuck in his study once more. This time, with a different companion at his side. This companion, he was plainly more comfortable around--for she was compassionate towards him.

But this time, she was not. And now he was wary in her presence. Because he feared her a little.

"No leads?!" she told him off, "You asked me to come here to help you. And we've _already_ hit a dead end?!"

She collapsed into Zuko's chair, kneading the sides of her temples with two fingers. Her pretty face transformed into an indignant expression.

That was Zuko's chair. The Fire Lord's. But he gave it up relentlessly to the fiery watertribes woman. He sat, instead--and timidly--on a less important chair next to the fire place. Even the fire seemed to acknowledge her mood, for it grew small.

"You didn't even go to your father a _second_ time?"

"I decided that I'd let him wait and think before he's ready to give me a real answer," said Zuko rather sheepishly.

"Let's see... It's been about four, maybe five months since you asked. You don't think he's ready?" she falsely accused, "Zuko! It's about your mother, for spirit's sake! I don't think it's the time to be patient!"

"Yeah, well..." he paused very shortly to consider his answer, and shortly enough so she wouldn't refute. "I had busy, _political _affairs to attend to...you know, as Fire Lord."

Of course she knew. She understood perfectly. She knew the stress of dealing with international and national transactions. She, too, had quite the busy schedule as Ambassador Katara of the Water Tribe. So sympathetically, she backed down a little. Zuko felt a little lighter. But as he lifted his teacup to sip, his hand shook the porcelain rather jerkily.

"What about Azula?" she sighed as she continued to massage the side of her forehead.

"She's not giving up any answers anytime, soon," he admitted defeatedly.

Katara groaned a deep, heavy sigh.

"You know," said Uncle Iroh, "There is an urban myth that the more you sigh, the shorter you become." He stood in the doorway, casually holding a tray of tea.

Katara gasped a short breath. And Zuko couldn't help but snort. He turned his expression to the fire and smirked to himself. As she let the breath go, she glared daggers at the back of his head.

Iroh chuckled at their childish affairs, "Have you ever considered a third alternative?" said he.

Both Zuko and Katara looked up. She, with a pleading look; he, with a more annoyed one. "Who?" they asked in unison.

"What about Miss Ty Lee?"

Zuko palmed his forehead, "Uncle! Why didn't you tell me earlier?!"

"Well, you didn't ask," replied Uncle Iroh, innocently.

"Even though you _knew _it was slowly killing me inside?!"

Iroh threw his hands in the air and pretended to look hurt, "I did not know it was killing you!"

* * *

Fire Lord Zuko dignantly strode out of the meeting room. He did not feel as burdened as usual today--because he knew he was getting closer and closer to fill the empty, longing feeling for his mother-which kept nagging him deep in his heart.

Zuko strolled on towards the royal chambers, to the garden. It was his favorite location, besides his study, because--like his study--it was private, and the turtleduck pond reminded him of his dear mother.

Katara was there. She sat under the grand tree, feeding bread crumbs to the turtleducks. That was _his_ spot.

"That's my spot," he said after he cleared his throat.

Katara's oceanic eyes flickered briefly to him, then focused back on the pond and smirked, "Yeah, well, your spot's been taken."

Zuko snorted and rolled his eyes. He squatted down next to her and watched the turtleducks dive for her breadcrumbs. Out of nowhere, he snatched the bread from her hands and started feeding the turtleducks himself.

Katara's eyes widened in surprise at his gesture and was momentarily peeved. Then she grinned deviously as she bended a strip of pond water over Zuko's figure. The water was freed from her control and she let it soak the Fire Lord, including his--_her_ bread.

Her carefree laughter rang in the air, even the turtleducks quacked up. **(Sorry for the pun...)**

Much to his chagrin, Zuko looked at the bread and sighed defeatedly. The soggy bread was mush in his hands. _Useless. _He threw the bread into the pond, not knowing he hit a turtleduckling.

"Zuko!" scolded Katara. When Zuko looked up, he saw the mother turtleduck quack angrily at him, swim straight at him, and grasp his finger in her beak.

His amber gold eyes grew large and Zuko yelped irksomely at the mother's offense. Katara only laughed harder as she helped him get his finger back.

"She bit me!"

"Of course, she bit you! You attacked her duckling. She only wants to protect him," she said before she started off into another fit of giggles.

"I know that!" he said defensively. But Zuko eased into a snicker as he watched her enjoying the moment in giggles. Her laughter was contagious.

Katara took a deep breath as she released her last few chortles and relaxed against the trunk of the shady tree.

"Let's go inside," he said, "I need to change my robes."

Katara scoffed, "Please, spare me," she said sarcastically and bent the water easily out of his clothes. "I want to stay out here. I like here. It's relaxing."

Zuko smiled at her, then at the sky, "I know."

For two minutes, Zuko and Katara just layed there, staring at the cloudless, blue sky. The sun was still climbing to noon when reality suddenly sunk in.

"So," Katara started casually as she opened one eye slightly.

"So?" asked Zuko.

"So...when are we going to leave for Kyoshi Island?"

"Two days," he answered.

"Two days?" she sat up abruptly. It wasn't enough to plan and prepare for what might lie ahead.

"Three, then!" he sat up, too, throwing his arms in the air.

"Three?! Four!" she insisted.

"Four?!" _Too long!_ he said with his eyes.

"Okay, then, three," Katara submitted. She knows when she's beaten, "Three days is good," and she crossed her arms and looked away.

Zuko nodded. He rested his chin in the palm of his hand and stared at the reflection of the blue sky in the pond.

"So," Katara started again, slowly.

He turned to her, "What now?" his voice contained only a small trace of annoyance.

She raised her hands, signifying no harm, then she crossed her arms again, "How are your meetings?"

"Tiresome," he replied.

"Is that so?"

"It is."

She looked around casually and Zuko eyed her suspiciously. "What?" he asked carefully.

"Is there a possible chance--I can join you?"

"No," he said, rather quickly, too. She sent him an accusing look in her chagrin.

"Those meetings are between me, the Fire Lord, and my Royal Council," he supported his answer and she formed an 'o' with her lips.

"However," he started again, "I have another meeting with all the government officials the day after. It would be a perfect occassion for Ambassador Katara of the Water Tribe to grace her presence with."

Katara snorted, "Why, I would be _honored_ to, Fire Lord Zuko," and she smiled at him.

* * *

_The night before the Government Official Meeting..._

"I'm sorry to bother you, Lady Katara."

Katara lifted her head up and pried her eyes from her desk. A young maid stood at the entrance of her room, bowing deeplly. Katara stood up and walked to her. But the maid kept her head down. So, Katara gently put a slender hand on her shoulder. She smiled when the maid gathered her courage to make eye contact.

"It's fine," assured Katara, "I was only writing a letter to my brother. Am I needed somewhere?"

The maid nodded, "Fire Lord Zuko wanted to check on you," she said feebly, "He requests your presence at dinner because you're quite late."

Katara sighed and looked at the time-telling candle--invented by Teo's father, the Mechanist.

"I see... Well, tell _Lord Zuko_ that I'll be on my way, then," Katara emphasized the 'Lord Zuko' in her sentence. She nodded politely at the maid.

"Yes, my Lady," said the maid as she scurried off.

"Katara is fine!" She added while the maid faded from her sight, "Oh, and thank you!"

Katara put on a small smile as she shook her head. She said to herself, "_My Lady... _What a title..."

* * *

Katara took her time to walk to the Fire Lord's private diner--greeting the night guards as she walked by them. They said, "Greetings, Miss Katara," and, "Good evening, my Lady," with the courteous smile and nod. She was intentionally taking her time just to peeve Zuko. After all, he could have checked on her, himself, if he was so _worried._

When she reached the doors to the diner, she opened them slowly for dramatic effect. Then she would walk in casually, her nose high in the air, and then she'd see his vexed expression with his brow furrowed--it would be her trophy. Katara was proud of herself because she played out this plan in her head only while she was still opening the doors. She smelled victory as she heard the clanking of utensils and porcelain...

Empty. Gone. Stood up.

The servants were only cleaning up.

Now Katara was peeved. Zuko wasn't even there. _That pompous jerk_, she thought. She didnt take _that _long, did she?

* * *

The room went cold. Zuko straightened, abruptly, in his seat and stiffened.

"You could've checked on me, yourself, you know," said Katara as she stood in the doorway. "And then when I bother to show up at dinner, you're not even there."

Zuko continued reading he paperwork, "You took too long."

Katara crossed her arms, defensively, "I was writing a letter to Sokka."

"The maid said you were on your way."

"Well, I was making small talk to the guards."

"All of them?" Zuko shifted in his seat and looked up at her with his eyebrow raised.

"The ones I passed by!" she said, feeling accused, "How long did you _actually _wait?"

"Five minutes after the maid came back," Zuko was still calm, "It only takes two minutes to get there."

Katara scoffed, "If you run."

"Well, then," he said, "You're just slow."

Katara 'hmphed' and walked over to his desk. She turned the document he was reading so she could see. "What's this?" she asked, wanting to change the subject.

He huffed a sigh and rested his cheek on his fist, "It's a proposition--"

"--to send some militia to back up the Earth Kingdom villages against rioting Fire Nation," Katara rolled her eyes, "Like I've never heard _that_ one before."

"Tell me about it," agreed Zuko.

"It's a free country, now! They're free to fight for their own cause! What happened to peace making?"

"A hundred years of war--"

"--leaves us scarred and divided," Katara finished for him.

Zuko snorted, "You can say that, again."

"Scarred and divided," she said with more emphasis.

...

Those words built tension.

Zuko's golden eyes were downcast as he raised a hand to touch his scar. And Katara watched him while she subconsciously touched two fingers to her mother's neckace.

"I think it was destiny the prevented me from healing your scar," said Katara to break the silence.

He nodded, "It was the worst mistake I've ever made," Katara watched him move to the seat by the fire place, "I betrayed Uncle. I betrayed you, Katara. You were the first person to trust me," she sat next to him as he continued, "And I betrayed himself. I was the perfect prince to my father. But it was the worst feeling ever."

Katara was looking at his profile--an outline of the unscarred prince that could have been. "But you wouldn't have learned without the experience," she reached out a tender hand to touch his scar. He didn't flinch at all, and she turned him to meet her cerulean gaze.

"Zuko... You're scar doesn't, _at all_, mark you as dishonorable," said she, "You're Fire Lord Zuko. It means you're strong, passionate, wise, a little bit _too_ fierce," she chuckled lightly, "But highly honorable."

"I know that, now," he smiled gently.

"You have the traits of a great leader. And that's why you're here to rule, Mr. Fire Lord. That's why you're Zuko," she smiled back.

He put a hand on her shoulder, "I'm here to rebuild a world--"

"--of love and peace--,"

"--with you--,"

Her tan cheeks pinked slightly, "--and Aang," she grinned from ear to ear, "And Sokka, and Toph, and Suki--"

"You need to stop finishing my sentences," mused Zuko.

Katara stood up and bowed, "Forgive me, my Lord," she laughed. "You're so predictable. Well, I'm going to hit the hay."

"No dinner?" he asked as he watched her walk towards the doorway.

"I'll go for a late night snack," She looked at the candle, "or an early morning snack."

He nodded as she started her way down the corridor.

"Don't forget the meeting tomorrow!" he called out.

"Good night, Mr. Fire Lord!"

He shook his head and smiled as he sat down at his desk. _Good night, _he said in his thoughts. And his head thudded the desk as he plunged into slumber.

* * *

**Tell me your favorite part :D I like to write my stories in a way that you can watch it like a movie in your head. I hope it works :) Thanks for staying with me, guys. Read and Review, Review, Review! The next one will feature the Government Official Meeting and the journey to/at Kyoshi Island. REVIEW!! I love reviews!**

**-SHL**

**Edit: P.S. I'll be writing one-shots during my writer's block in case you guys get tired of waiting for the next chapter. I hope you guys read them :D**


	4. Chapter 4

**YAY. Next chapter :DDD It's shorter than the others... But, You guys waited long enough xP sorry!**

**Disclaimer: ATLA. IS. NOT. MINE.**

**P.S. Read my note at the end D:**

_

* * *

_

_The young boy slept soundly in his bed. The footsteps down the hall were so covert, so gingerly—they synced within the rhythm of the boy's cadenced breath._

_The shadowed noble woman swayed into the young one's room. Her deep red and gold trimmed robes followed the swing of her movements like a soft breeze._

_Onto his bed she gently sat upon, and the boy did not stir. _

_She set her slender hand on his shoulder to rouse him gently, yet swiftly._

"_Zuko, my love," she spoke tenderly._

"_Zuko, wake up," she said a little more fiercely._

"_Mr. Fire Lord…"_

"Zuko… Wake up! Hey—!"

Katara yanked her hand away as Zuko's eyes shot open when he jerked awake. He felt the waterbender's comforting hand on his back—and it lulled him back to sleep.

He sluggishly gave back into slumber while he his head rested down with a face full of papers. She leaned slightly next to him to get his attention.

"Hey," Katara rubbed his back to stir him awake, "I believe you have an important meeting to attend to, _My Lord_."

"Nghh…" he mumbled deeply and turned his head only slightly in her direction. The, rather damp, documents shuffled beneath his head.

Zuko fully expected a reply from her, but he heard none.

Katara walked away instead.

His attention perked—suddenly conscious of the subtle sound of her element in midair. Out of curiosity, he shifted his head off the desk _just _slightly—facing his ear towards the sound.

Zuko heard her footsteps getting closer.

And then he felt her come to a full stop behind his _seemingly_ sleeping figure.

_What is sh—_"Aghh!!"

She snickered, "That got _you_ awake."

The greatly-respected, almighty, and powerful Fire Lord couldn't handle a little _frozen water_. Zuko pulled his arm back to claw at his robe in hopes of shaking out the ice.

"I can't believe you did that."

"I can't believe you're missing the point," she countered.

In her arms, Katara suddenly appeared a hand full with his robes (the heavy ones, too). And she thrust them into his arms as she rushed him into the wash room, "Change."

Zuko spun around and faced her as he remained standing in the doorway—holding the robes loosely in his arms.

He tried to ask rather bluntly and with half-lidded eyes, "Why are you being so—!!"

Zuko found himself off guard when she slid the door shut in his face.

"You have a guest of honor today," she said simply.

* * *

Fire Lord Zuko and Ambassador Katara of the Water Tribe walked side by side down the vast hall and toward the doors of the meeting room. He, dressed in the Fire Lord's deep red and heavy robes; she, in flowing varieties of blues and white fur trimmed garments.

The guards around each corner made obeisance to their nobles. "My Lord," they said courteously, and, "My Lady."

They walked with only a foot or so between them. But Katara felt her ears pink while her companion gradually closed the gap. All she wanted to do, at the moment, was focus on their destination…

She found it deeply difficult to do so. And It seemed like those doors tend to get ten feet farther for each step she took.

_Concentrate… _she scolded herself. _Ow!_

Katara swerved her head in his direction, but only to find his attention not on her. Offended, her frown deepened.

"Take my arm," he said without eye contact.

She looked down and found his offered arm—staring at it for what felt like hours to Zuko.

_What? Does it look like I'm bleeding to death? _were his thoughts.

"What are you waiting for?" he snapped her out of her blank mood, "You were in such a hurry this morning, now you're completely out of it." He jabbed her lightly.

Katara shook her head and averted her eyes, "I was thinking of coming early," she hesitated, "Because, most likely, those officials are expecting to see Ambassador Katara, _so-called_ Great Water Tribe negotiator, young war hero of Ozai's defeat."

They stopped in front of the great entrance that separated them from the awaiting officials. "Now, I'm not so sure," she gulped, taking his arm on her own accord.

"Oh, uh—they're not expecting you," he said, maybe, too bluntly.

Oh, Agni, smite him. It was the only sentence he can conjure on such short notice. He knew she needed the reassurance. And it looked like he was the only one for the job.

It's not like she would even know that he's really bad at being good. _Really_ bad.

_Hi, Zuko here._ Oh wait, she probably does.

Katara looked at him with a furrowed expression.

"W-what? Are you afraid that you're not what they're expecting?" he tried again.

_Fail._

"What do you mean _'What'_? What was that other thing you said?"

_Why am I so bad at this?!_ Zuko mentally kicked himself. He was doing so well in his speech at the end of the war, too. What's wrong with him _now_?

"They don't know that you're going to attend the meeting," he said, unsure of her question… Or demand, really.

"They don't know I'm here?" she raised an eyebrow.

"Well, some of them do. They just don't expect you to uh,—actually _come_ to any Fire Nation…affairs…"

The words,_ What's that supposed to mean?,_ was reflected in her expression.

She scoffed, offended, and tightened her grip on his arm—which Zuko felt grow hot. Katara straightened her posture and held her nose up high.

"Let's just go in," she voiced determinedly.

_Leave it to a peasant to go overboard in noble affairs_, he noted inwardly.

The Fire Lord nodded his head to the guards posted on each door and they acknowledged his silent request.

_Let's see how this goes..._he thought as the guards opened the doors for the host and his guest.

A vast and dim, but fair-lighted room was revealed to them. Not a first sight for Katara, but a first in the Fire Nation. A long stretch of delegates, an estimated number over a dozen, were seated along a low, lengthy table.

All of them were men as they stood up with their typical Fire Nation top-knots, the noble, oh-so-stylish sideburns. What seemed to be a brooch was pinned over their bosoms—each man beheld a different symbol. Next to the brooch also appeared a smaller pin of the Fire Nation emblem.

She felt Zuko's arm slip out of her grip and saw him beginning to gesture a bow. Katara caught on and the assemblage bowed together.

Fire Lord Zuko held out his arm again, and his lovely guest took it promptly.

As he escorted her across the room, Katara felt their eyes on her. She could almost hear what they were thinking by the look on their faces: _What is that peasant here for? Why does she have to be here for the meeting?_

Mind you, most of these delegates were the same ones under Ozai's administration. They _could_ be just as hostile as he—for Zuko is still too young the ruler to gain trust in repositioning these roles.

...

The Fire Lord sat the Water Tribe Ambassador to his left, while his Uncle accompanied him on his right. Zuko himself sat at the head of the elongated table. It used to be a throne that the Fire Lord would sit upon—seating himself above all his subjects. But now he sat on equal levels—and yet still recognized as the leader.

"Please begin with our commerce activity," the Fire Lord decided, "How goes our market industry?"

A moment of silence passed by, and finally, a brave soul spoke his take on the subject. As the scribe finished recording the man's summary, another delegate followed up with his own.

Katara watched hour after hour pass by. She felt useless for being there only to listen—like a pretty puppet doll on display. It really wasn't her business to participate in Fire Nation affairs.

Very few, and really _very_ few, discussions caught her interest. She listened and paid attention, though, in case any would lead to a conclusion later. Like the crime rates in the Fire Nation Fountain City, or the amount of cat-gator skin going into the nation… Did that really matter?

…

Katara caught eye contact with Zuko many times. With his golden-amber eyes she could read the impression that he's already had _too many_ of these meetings. And yet, behind that noble-born face and his stoic expression, she knew that he acknowledged that there will only be more to come.

The Water Tribe ambassador did not consider how long she had actually sat through the meeting. Considering being trapped in a room with no windows to see broad daylight, she assumed—to her chagrin—that it was only still beginning.

For the thousandth time she caught Zuko's eye, she saw him shift awkwardly. Some of the delegates in their own seats did the same.

Katara hadn't realize what was going on, but Uncle Iroh stood up after a representative finished his say.

"Fellow noblemen," he started as sagacious as the man he is, "It is now noon. So we will commence an intermission. After three hours time, the conference will be continued and then we will discuss _international_ issues and resolutions."

Katara heard his emphasis on _international._ That meant that she could _finally _listen to something to keep her awake and actually _active_. She suddenly let out a breath that she didn't know she was holding in—and found herself sharing the same breath with many others in the room.

The Fire Lord, his guest, and his right hand man of an Uncle watched quietly as the delegates poured out of the hall. Some of them even advanced towards the Fire Lord and his company.

Four of them, to be exact.

* * *

The youngest of them looked about his early 30's, broad-shouldered, and clean shaven.

He handed his greetings to Katara first:

"Ambassador Katara of the Water Tribe," they bowed then shook hands, "Master Hing, from the Hing Wa Island."

Katara's eyes widened, but her smile stayed put. Whether it was fake or not, even _she_ couldn't tell.

"That's where Hama lived, wasn't it?" she recalled.

"Yes Yes! I cannot thank you enough for taking her down," he said truly grateful.

Katara's grin turned genuine.

"She took my wife hostage, you know. Hama was too strong the puppetmaster to be taken on by mere firebenders." Those poor souls in her cave dungeons.

"Oh...I'm sorry you had to suffer through that torture. Especially by my own people," she clenched her fist slightly and shuddered, "It was the war that affected her, you see—"

"Oh, yes. But I've only been in charge of Hing Wa for just two years. I was too weak to really do anything about it. I succeeded my father after he, too, died under the hand of Hama."

Katara's heart dropped. Her own people—dragged down to the war-like, ruthless Fire Nation level.

"I see," she said with her eyes downcast, "Many can stoop down to such levels under the influence of war."

Ambassador Katara bowed very deeply for her heritage. Nonetheless, she will always honour her Water Tribe.

Master Hing put his large hand on her shoulder and Katara straightened.

"Many hearts are brought up courageously to fight back," he smiled genuinely, "Thank you."

Katara nodded with a small, but confident smile as Master Hing bowed and walked away. She noticed on his bosom was the brooch of a fire lily.

The fire lily—like the many that Hama destroyed.

Yet the many that continued to grow.

_Fire has beauty in it, after all._

* * *

Meanwhile, Fire Lord Zuko and his Uncle Iroh spoke to the other three delegates. Actually, only Uncle was talking to the elderly one among the trio. The other two middle-aged men waited behind the elder. And Katara joined Zuko and his uncle after the old man left.

One of the men confronted Katara, immediately. He took her hand and shook it fiercely.

"Ambassador Katara," he said excitedly, "I am Master Hwang Ri from Ember Island."

Katara kept a fake, and a little bit worried, expression. She also stayed quiet—not knowing how to respond.

Master Hwang Ri continued, anyway, "You are even more beautiful in person. Far more beautiful than how my son describes you."

"Oh?" She hid the shock in her voice. An _actual_ secret admirer from the Fire Nation? Fire Nation. Water Tribe... _yeah, right._

Katara watched Hwang Ri dig something out of his robe.

"Please come visit us anytime," he gave her a black satin box and winked, "My son, Chan, would _love_ to meet you."

The jittery delegate bowed and left their presence.

Katara opened the box to find a ring. A huge, red ruby the size of a pearl stuck out—she could see her reflection in the gem. _Nghh... _she shivered,_ Too much._

She felt Zuko fidget beside her.

"What?" She raised an eyebrow.

Zuko shuddered, "Nothing," he coughed out, "Just—don't trust anyone from Ember Island."

_Hmph, It's too gaudy for me anyway._ Katara furrowed her brow and shrugged as she closed the box.

* * *

The other middle-aged man turned his attention from Uncle Iroh to the Fire Lord and Ambassador Katara.

This man had long, thick sideburns and a large curling mustache. An almost spooky expression tainted his face—for he had a slightly over-hanging brow and dark circles under those black eyes.

He grinned like a natural, though, and kept his eye contact with Katara as they bowed.

He held out his hand, "I am Master Jang of Jang Hui Village—" his tone floated steadily in the air.

Katara took his hand hesitantly (although she didn't show it) and shook, "From Jang Hui River, right?"

"You've heard of my brother... Dock?"

She widened her eyes greatly.

"I don't see the resemblance," she said with a fake smile, "You look nothing like your, uh, brothers."

Master Jang flinched, "Ah yes, well... we come from different mothers."

She nodded slowly—unsure of where to take this conversation.

Master Jang seemed to take notice the uncomfortable presence in the air, "Well, my brother—er, brothers...have told me about the visiting of the Avatar and his little group. You were among them, yes?"

"Yes, I was," she said very proudly.

"Strangely enough, General Mung also said that he and his soldiers encountered the Painted Lady during your same visit. I was away at the time."

"Oh?" she replied calmly. Internally, however, she was relieved that they didn't recall her revealing of her alter-ego.

Master Jang chuckled lightly, "That Avatar is _some_ human bridge to the spirit world, isn't he? I was very disappointed, though, to find my factory destroyed. I was working on a project."

_Oh, so you were behind that mess_, she scolded inwardly. Her smile stayed glued onto her face.

"Is that so?" she faked her sympathies, "I don't believe I recall that," she lied, "Our group came afterwards, I think. We assisted in cleaning up the river."

"Oh, yes. I know about that," Master Jang twitched slightly.

"I've heard of the Painted Lady, though," Katara boasted, "That village _loved _her. Kind and Gentle. They called her wonderful in her miracles—"

"And beautiful," added Zuko out of nowhere.

She tilted her head, "You know about the Painted Lady?" asking purely out of curiosity.

He crossed his arms, "Of course I do," he replied. Then he pointed at himself as if it was the most obvious thing at the moment, "Fire Nation."

Katara put her hands on her hips as if to ponder that oblivious statement. In reality, she was getting ready to face the river-dirtying monster of an official. _Breathe in._

She let her arms hang as she faced Master Jang again. She politely folded her hands together. _Breathe out_.

"So—what was this project of yours?" she became interested in what kind of _experiment_ would taint a river so putridly.

Master Jang waved it off quickly, "It's not of importance, anymore," he adjusted the pin on his bosom to ignore her eye contact.

Awkward silence stopped time uncomfortably.

Finally, the old master broke it, "Well, er—I hope you visit some time..."

He bowed courteously (kind of quickly, too) and walked away.

His pin was an interesting one, she noted: a bronze feather, painted in dark oranges and reds; very noble, yet it looked very old.

* * *

**Sorry for the wait xP**

**This was supposed to be a long chapter. But uhh... my chapters have so far only been a little over 3,000 words. I think I should keep it at a pace.**

**Plus, I'm holding you guys up... so sorry xP**

**READ&REVIEW. I'm srs, gais 8/ ... **

**:D I like to know that you guys are still interested in me updating, is all. A writer's block needs a little push. Well for me, BIG.--thats a big hint; if you guys can't wait. TELL ME and I will work. I work better and think faster about the plot esp under pressure. LOL :p**


	5. Chapter 5

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Chapter numero cinco. Chapter 5. Sorry it took long. I would call this more of a filler chapter than anything. But a chapter nonetheless. There are some good points I pointed out here. Really good points. You'll see...

**Disclaimer: ATLA doesn't belong to me. It belongs to Bryke and their_—_nevermind. But _Zutara_ belongs to the fans B]**

**enjoy~**

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* * *

_

_**Previously...**_

_"So—what was this project of yours?" she became interested in what kind of _experiment_ would taint a river so putridly._

_Master Jang waved it off quickly, "It's not of importance, anymore," he adjusted the pin on his bosom to ignore her eye contact._

_Awkward silence stopped time uncomfortably._

_Finally, the old master broke it, "Well, er—I hope you visit some time..."_

_He bowed courteously (kind of quickly, too) and walked away._

_His pin was an interesting one, she noted: a bronze feather, painted in dark oranges and reds; very noble, yet it looked very old._

* * *

As Uncle Iroh left the two for his tea time, they started making their way towards the garden.

Katara thought about Master Jang. She wondered if he _really_ knew who the infamous Painted Lady was. There was something fishy about that man. He knew something.

It's just that... she felt such a special freedom to playing the Painted Lady. No real life issues to deal with. Living life _purely_ for vigilante justice. It was spirit-building. And it was an adrenaline rush.

Her alias. Her alter-ego.

"So how about that Painted Lady, huh?" she heard Zuko say.

Katara grinned to herself, then she grinned at him. She found Zuko holding a strange expression. It was a smug look: bright golden eyes, a raised eyebrow, and a knowing smirk. She couldn't help raising her own eyebrow.

They stopped under the pagoda near the garden. Katara crossed her arms and studied him under her suspicious blue eyes. "You know something."

"A little birdie told me," he matched her, look-for-look.

"Who told you?" she pointed her finger, playfully.

"Who told me what?" he pretended.

Katara narrowed her eyes at him, "What do you know?"

Zuko leaned on the rail with his arms and looked out into the garden. He closed his eyes as he tilted his head to the sky—taking in that breath of fresh Fire Nation air. The warm breeze caressed his face, and then it started to pick up.

"The air—" he spoke softly, "So gentle, calm, motherly," he cracked his right eye open to spy Katara, too, closing her eyes as she listened.

Zuko grinned, "Then it picks up a rebellious spirit, a longing for vigilante missions, a mysterious secret identity who paints herself red—"

Katara bumped him playfully with her shoulder.

"Toph told you."

"Sokka."

She raised an eyebrow. He didn't need to look to see her expression.

His face turned smug again, "I'm impressed, you know. Honored, in fact," he scoffed, "I mean, you blew up a factory. That's something."

"You're not so bad yourself, Blue Spirit."

Now _she _was smug—like she stole the very expression from Zuko. Replacing his face was surprise: wide eyes, and a raised eyebrow. "How—?" he stopped abruptly and realized the answer to his question, "Uncle."

Katara flashed a bright, knowing smile at him. "And Aang."

Now _he_ narrowed his eyes, "_That_—was purely business."

"I thought it was sweet," she smiled to herself, "Except when you attacked him afterwards."

"It was necessary. I was only freeing him to capture him," he retaliated.

What what Zuko trying to prove? Simply that his intentions were not going to change because of some bald, immature kid. Prince Zuko _certainly_ was not going soft. _Prince Zuko_ had his honor at stake.

_Do you think we could've been friends back then?_

_Yeah, we could've_, admitted Prince Zuko regretfully.

But now Zuko is no longer that resentful prince.

Katara smiled as she watched a grin slowly creep on her companion's face, "I bet you loved it."

"I bet you loved it, too. You loved blowing up that factory. You loved playing dress up."

Katara supported her head with her chin in her arms as she leaned against the mahogany red, wood-carved rails. She closed her eyes like she was about to enter a very tranquil reverie. "Yeah," she smiled, "I loved it."

Katara inhaled peacefully. The air smelled faintly of Ginseng tea. She let the warmth envelope her body.

Fire Lord and Ambassador picked up light footsteps down the hall.

The footsteps belonged to a figure holding a tea tray with three cups and a teapot. The two can already assume who the figure seemed to be. One can spot the lotus flower painted delicately on the porcelain.

Uncle Iroh stepped into fresh air with a solid, complacent curve in his lips.

The old man placed the tray on the wooden rail's flat surface. "Why, you two look thoughtful today."

Katara nodded a 'thank you' when Uncle offered her a cup.

Zuko hated the awkward silence, especially with his Uncle around. It meant that Uncle Iroh was planning.

Katara seemed to pick up his uneasiness. "So General Iroh—"

"My dear," he set his hand on Katara's shoulder, "You may call me Uncle Iroh," he nodded to let her continue. Zuko rolled his eyes.

"Uncle," she started again, "Who was that elder that you spoke to?"

"Ah. He is my friend from Fire Fountain City," he answered, "An official who brought news about the Boiling Rock Prison. Master Xun says that it seems as though... ever since the first break out," he looked, knowingly, at Zuko, "The prisoners are more encouraged to riot and escape."

"Well, send a few troops to enforce them or something. I'm sure under new management it'll stay under control. What else did he say?" asked Zuko, trying to change the subject.

Uncle Iroh shifted his eyes left and right. When he was sure no one else was around and present, he took a deep breath and Katara and Zuko leaned forward.

Uncle's voice was low, "Master Xun scooped out a refugee. A stranger coming from Whale Tail Island," the two of them strained their ears, "His team of investigators found this man carrying something with him. He said it would be _something_ that could change the whole trade industry."

A dead silence hung in the air.

Zuko couldn't take it. "What was it, Uncle?!"

Iroh's old, wise eyes lit up in joy, "He discovered a new tea based on the rare crossbreed of sugar cane, jasmine, and kona!" Iroh clapped his hands in excitement, "I will be receiving a box in two days. It will be wonderful!"

Zuko's serious expression dropped in utter disbelief. He slid his hand down his face, "That's—great—Uncle."

Katara giggled, "I'm sure it _will_ taste wonderful, Uncle."

Zuko wanted desperately to get rid of such a horrifying moment. How can they be so gullible? They're supposed to be on an investigation mission for Agni's sake—for Ursa's sake! How will they get down to business like _this_?

"Uncle, can we discuss the mission or something?" Zuko waved his hand to dismiss the matter and used the other to cover his eyes. He looked at Katara, who was still holding in a few giggles. Zuko had to admit, it was... cute—_Wait, what?_—er, no. He meant that it was _entertaining_ to see her laugh. Yeah, that's right. _Mom, what's wrong with me?_

Uncle Iroh saw that subtle grin form on Zuko's lips. And a little bit of that glimmer in his eyes.

Sweet, caring Uncle decided to have just a _little_ fun by snapping Zuko out of his trance. "What _about_ the mission, nephew?" he questioned with a knowing grin.

The curve in the Fire Lord's lips was wiped away as it seemed the Zuko was back on earth again. "Huh? Oh. Yes," he shook his head and looked at his Uncle. "We don't know how long we'll be gone," Zuko looked at Katara, then looked down at his shoes and rubbed his neck, "I need you to stay and look after the nation, Uncle."

"I am aware of that, nephew. However, I am not sure how the officials will take the news. Or the Royal Council , for that matter." Uncle Iroh's lips were in a straight line.

Katara's cerulean orbs were pondering. "I don't think they would be happy to know that their Fire Lord is leaving his country just to find his mother," she concluded.

"We'll tell them we're looking for Mai. The Council has been insisting on a Fire Lady and an heir to ensure my rule. They'll want her back."

Katara studied his eyes. Those amber, gold-tinted eyes seemed almost... resentful.

"Do you... want her back?" she asked carefully.

Zuko averted his gaze, "No," he shook his head slowly, "I don't."

Katara looked at Uncle Iroh. "Should we rescue her?"

Uncle Iroh put his hand on her shoulder, "She was never kidnapped."

Katara was not surprised. She understood.

She nodded solemnly—feeling it best to leave the subject untouched.

But Zuko wanted to. It was a matter that couldn't be left unspoken. And for some reason, _especially_ to Katara.

"She ran away," he confessed. "I thought I loved her—" Zuko paused to find the right words.

"—but she wasn't the person you thought she was." Katara placed her hand on his shoulder. "I know what you mean," she said sympathetically.

Two seconds passed by. Except, it was an eternity.

Zuko sighed gruffly and rubbed his neck again. "What time is it, Uncle?"

"We have around an hour and a half before the meeting resumes. Have you two eaten, yet?"

Katara clapped her hand over her stomach—realizing _now_ that it was grumbling. "I could use some good Fire Nation food," she admitted.

Iroh folded his hands together, "I will request a traditional Fire Nation meal."

Zuko said, "We'll eat in my private diner. We still need to discuss a few more things."

The trio nodded in unison. Uncle Iroh bowed to excuse himself in order to talk to the chef. Zuko led Katara to the diner. They took the tea with them.

* * *

The Fire Lord's private dining hall was as it is: strictly private. He—and if he wishes, his Lady—may invite who he or she pleases.

The diner is rather small compared to the main one near the ballroom. However, this one was _just_ as elegant: its simplistic white-walled structures; the golden pillars that stretch nobly to the high ceiling; tall, dark red tapestries kissing the white granite tiles; and the nation's insignia embroidered in black proudly displayed above.

There, at the head of the table, was the Fire Lord's royal seat. Grand—and empty.

Zuko preferred sitting next to or near his guest since all those he invited were close to him anyway—with no need to display his hierarchy.

Zuko's invitations to his diner are highly rare. Most of the time he ate by himself or with his uncle. He did with Mai once or twice, but he hated the silence between them. Too many unspoken words than can never been spoken between them anyway. They stopped eating together here. Zuko started using paperwork as an excuse to skip dinner.

* * *

Now he sat to the right of Katara. Already four days have passed since her arrival in the Fire Nation. Yet, it _does_ seem like time has been running slow. She's only been in the diner twice before—one of them being the night she wrote that letter to Sokka and found Zuko missing her late appearance.

The first time was on that first day. Their silences were not horrid like Zuko's were with Mai. Nor Aang's, for that matter. With Mai, there was not enough spoken—because there was simply _nothing_ between them. With Aang, too much—but hardly any meaning.

Zuko and Katara's presence with each other were comfortable (and although they did not notice it, sometimes a little bashful, too). There was always something to talk about. They were never hesitant in speaking. Nor were they ignorant in listening. And when they finished their conversations, the silence was never awkward. The silence was comfort and closure—because they were both satisfied with their say. They simply said what they needed to say.

Some may call this boring. Others would call it a 'platonic relationship' and _not _a 'stage' at all.

Wrong. These are the beginnings.

This is _balance_.

This lunch was one of those times.

Katara sat there with the lotus-painted porcelain in her hands—letting the warmth of the hot tea travel through her body. She stared at its watery texture and the herbs in it floating around.

"What happened to your Uncle's tea shop in Ba Sing Se?" She blew once to cool the tea, "I thought he said he was going to continue it."

Uncle Iroh cam through the doors with the chefs trailing behind him. "Zuko needed a little headstart," answered Iroh.

Zuko took a sip of his tea and nodded, "I didn't get enough training when I was banished. I had no idea how to deal with the mountain of paperwork on my desk."

The three were watching the chefs set up the table with food.

Uncle Iroh said, "He was relieved when I agreed to stay and help."

"But I remember months ago that Zuko was able to complete a transaction with our Water Tribes. Seems to me like he's already been doing well from a good start." Katara asked, "What are you still doing here, Uncle?"

"Seeing how he's faring," Uncle answered, then smiled at the Fire Lord, "I knew he was doing well for a good while now. I knew, eventually, he would gather the courage to search for his mother. Zuko would need to me to leave the shop sooner or later. I wanted a _fresh_ start to the Jasmine Dragon. Not a good start and then leave it on such short notice."

"Thank you, Uncle," nodded Zuko—because he _did_ figure that out at one point.

"Needless to say, Fire Lord Zuko. You are my favorite nephew."

Katara snickered.

"I am your _only_ nephew, Uncle."

"Yes, I know. But—Oh!" Uncle's eyes lit up in joy and tapped his chopsticks together like the jaw of a cat-gator, "Dumplings!"

Uncle filled his plate with one, two, three, four—"Uncle!" Zuko warned, "Save some for Katara!"

Uncle put his chopsticks down and reached for the roast duck. "Would Miss Katara care for some roast duck?" He took a good piece of the thigh and slipped it into her plate without waiting for an answer.

Zuko eyes slipped into the back of his head.

"Thank you, Uncle," said Katara.

Uncle nodded, "Eat enough so you won't go hungry during the rest of the meeting."

Zuko added, "Or fall asleep, either."

Uncle shrugged, "We will see, nephew." He pointed his chopsticks at the two of them, "You two should keep your ears keen for any places or situations that need investigating."

Katara nodded while she chewed a bit of some roast duck and swallowed. "Yeah, like that Jang Hui Village," she shivered, "I mean, what was all the fuss about that stupid factory and that 'project' Master Jang was so 'secret' about?"

"Calm down, Katara," said Zuko, "I know we have a lot to consider. But for now we'll focus on the meeting. And later, Kyoshi Island."

Katara inhaled, then exhaled. "Yeah, okay. I know. Keep our eyes open."

"Ears."

"That too."

Uncle Iroh, Zuko, and Katara continued with their meal. And soon enough, the meeting was about to start again.

* * *

**REVIEW PLEASE D: uhh, tell me what you like about the story so far! Or if you want more imagery or more interactions ;) TELL ME. **

**Remember that I like to make sure my readers are still interested in keeping up the story. Otherwise, I lose faith in writing it :(**

**-SUPAH frootbendah xD**


	6. Chapter 6

**WHOO! Yea-yuh. 6th chapter. Sorry for the lateness. How long has it been...almost 2 or 3 months? Geez.**

**Anyway, I hope you guys like this chapter. I personally thought it was boring to write the first part...about the meeting. Gah, I hated writing something like this. It took a lot of...sophisticated-ness.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own ATLA. don't push it.**

* * *

"The Boiling Rock prisoners are too unstable—"

"The coal mines of the lower Earth Kingdom colonies are being too frequently disrupted by mere delinquents—"

"Our peaceful colonies are being run out by angry Earth Kingdom citizens—"

To think—for the _longest_ time, Katara always saw the other nations on the bad end of the bargain.

And now she resided next to the Fire Lord. Her hands were folded on her lap; her eyes focused on the faces of the Fire Nation—what _used_ to be the enemy.

Their faces reminded her of the anguish she saw in her travels during the war: a helplessness.

The Fire Nation was like any other nation: strong, ambitious, but humble to their country. And like any other country, despite the new restoration of balance, they are burdened with the duty to build up from ashes.

Every leader has a duty to their country. Poor Zuko was under the burden of his own.

"Wait," the Fire Lord held up his hand to silence the members. He waited for the echoes of his voice to fade.

He spoke to the assemblage clear and directly, "If you must insist that these events keep occurring," he said, establishing eye contact with each side of the room, "Then what do you propose we do?"

It was a wise question, Katara had to admit. His uncle looked at him exquisitely. What better way to listen to the people than to twist the issue back to such harbingers?

A delegate cleared his throat, and suddenly, all eyes were upon him.

Master Jang stood up from his seat rather confidently, "I say we send our troops."

"Are you suggesting another war, Master Jang?" the Fire Lord raised his eyebrow.

"No, my Lord," he lowered his head very slightly. "I'm saying that a little enforcement wouldn't hurt. A warning, so to speak—to provoke the possibility of any more outbreaks."

"Master Jang, you _are_ aware that this is a time where we should be establishing peace?" Challenged the Fire Lord.

Katara sought for any remorse in the man's eyes. They seemed blank...and cold.

A low murmur filled the hall.

Katara decided that a man as shifty as he was hard to read. Her only way to cure her suspicion now (though she called it a curiosity) was to get to the bottom of this._ There's only one way to find out._

Katara quickly gathered her voice, "Fire Lord Zuko...If I may say something."

All eyes and ears were directed at her, including Zuko's.

The low buzz of voices faded to a stop, and she was given full attention. The newcomer—the outsider was put on the spot.

As she was about ready to get up, Zuko's hand fell over hers and he held her down. "What are you doing?" He whispered solely to her.

Two words: "Trust me," and she squeezed his hand.

Purely out of instinct (and not habit), Zuko squeezed back. Then she felt his grip loosen.

Katara got up, straightened her dress, and took a deep breath.

"Now I know I have no business here in the Fire Nation," she looked at the delegates, then glaced quickly at Zuko before proceeding, "But I speak on the behalf of my nation among our four united ones. Like yourselves—we, too, are being bombarded with pleas from the Earth Kingdom; complaints reach our ears regarding your citizens' residences in their towns. And I know your citizens aren't the ones causing harm. I realize that they stay because, even during the war, they've made the Earth Kingdom their home. The problem here is: your past hostility towards them gave them a sense of hostility to give back," Katara paused, for another murmur stirred up the room.

"We've even sent our own Water Tribe representatives to insist the Earth villagers take heart and make peace. For we all know that Fire Lord Zuko here," she smiled, "declared a new era of peace and love."

The smile was wiped off her face as disappointment overcame her voice. "Unfortunately, our efforts to convince them otherwise have failed... My point here is," and her eyes were set solemnly on Master Jang's, "I agree with the Jang Hui Official. If these insurgencies keep occurring, and if they take no action to make peace, it may be necessary to use enforcement to get them talking. By no means should you resort to violence—but your people _do_ need the protection."

Katara smirked at Master Jang. He returned the gesture with his own and included a suspiciously raised eyebrow.

She saw the delegates look at each other as she sat down. Katara smiled to herself, satisfied with her say.

Zuko shot her a look. And it wasn't that he was mad...

He looked—indecisive.

Katara simply took his hand and squeezed it. When he looked at her he saw a smug look on her face. Her simple gesture was to lean over and whisper, "Let's see how this goes."

Zuko nodded in consideration—and suddenly, a tingling sensation came over his skin.

Katara seemed not to notice it, but she hadn't let go of his hand.

Zuko squeezed gently and Katara let go with an 'o' shape in her lips—followed by an embarassed laugh.

He wanted to tell her he didn't mind—that she didn't have to feel embarassed. But he kind of liked the scarlet in her cheeks.

Zuko immediately forced his head back into reality.

"Very well, then," concluded the Fire Lord. "Send the troops—to all of them. Perhaps a firm hand _is_ what they need."

Zuko looked at his uncle for a reaction. He found a serene Iroh and his bearded chin between his fingers. And then the wide man exhaled deeply.

_BANG!_

All heads whipped towards the sound. The outspoken man stood up fiercely, "Why should we take advice from someone not of our nation?"

This man was unknown to her and vice versa—and he already hated her... and vice versa.

Katara lowered her head so that the shadows swathed her expression. Though no once could read her face, her tense aura was strongly felt.

Zuko showed no apparent change of mood, but shot a vicious glare at the delegate. Before the Fire Lord could remark, the fearless waterbender beat him to it.

Katara slammed her palms on the table and shot up.

_If they're trying to underestimate me, they've got another thing coming._

The urge to bend that ugly tongue out of his mouth left with her sigh and her glare softened.

Ambassador Katara decided to handle this with absolute and _dignified_ maturity:

"Sir, I may not be Fire Nation. And I am _certainly_ not like your kind—" Oh yes, she had been _waiting_ to use that phrase on a whiny bastard. "—But I shall remind you, even if there are four separate elements, we all exist in one world. We are all humans; we all go to one spirit world. And I am _sure_ that as one, we are fully knowledgeable of how to handle the _same_ conflicts. _You _are no different, and _I_ am entitled to my own opinion.

No echo need stress her say. No breath need be wasted to express her voice. The severity of her words had said it all.

...

Fire Lord Zuko finally broke the astounding silence.

"I couldn't have said it better myself. We, of all people, should know not to mistrust our fellow nations—for we were the ones that have been at odd ends with them for a hundred years. _You_, of all people, should know, Master Chien."

Master Chien pried his eye contact off the Fire Lord. Throughout the rest of the meeting, he kept his brow firmly straight, his arms crossed robustly, and continued to establish his half-lidded eye contact with no one else.

Zuko's own topaz eyes glanced towards his benign uncle in unsaid askance. Iroh's eyes were already expecting him—a mere slight of his aging eyebrows and the wee movement of a nod was done as if he said it all.

Then Zuko looked at Katara. By the look on her face, he knew she was all too ready to surrender to ending this dreadful meeting. Katara did the same gestures as his Uncle Iroh, except more languidly. And then the Fire Lord focused back to the representatives.

"I know that we are all aware that this meeting is coming to a close—" Zuko waited until he heard the slick of the scribes' brush cease. "But there is one more announcement I must make. And I hope none of you were making malignant judgements about Ambassador Katara's presence; she _does_ have a reason to be in the Fire Nation. And even if she didn't, it's very _disrespectful_ to treat a guest that way—_especially_ a war hero _and_ a fond friend of mine." No one dared look at the expression of the intended receiver of that message.

"Nevermind our opposite elements, for we are no longer at opposing odds. But as you know, Mai has gone missing. Katara was an excellent and _dear_ companion to me during the war. She still is. And I trust her." Zuko's hand drifted onto her shoulder. Katara showed no change in her serene expression, but took notice of all the eyes that followed their Fire Lord's hand to rest on her shoulder.

The Fire Lord, himself, was aware of their reaction.

"I _trust_ her _completely_," he emphasized, "And I _should_ trust you all to do the same." Zuko studied the face of his audience. It seemed that it was not their lack of faith in Katara, but the news of a missing Mai—new to some—that activated their uneasiness.

Zuko was perfectly satisfied to know he pushed all the right buttons. He knew they wanted nothing more than to secure a strong Fire Nation rule with an heir.

But he knew they were blind, of course. Dead wrong.

_Nothing_ would alleviate his stress and strengthen his will more than finding his mother. Mai was the perfect cover story. At least she was good for _something_, right?

"My Uncle Iroh will run the nation in my place. You are all very aware that he is perfectly capable for this task." Uncle nodded in front of their watchful eyes to acknowledge that he was aware of the task ahead.

"And finally, Ambassador Katara and I will be leaving tomorrow to start the investigation. No questions asked; it's best to leave this unsaid. We don't want anyone to know we're on their trail. And I don't want any interference _or_ help. I believe I know Lady Mai more than anyone." He lied about the last part.

But that statement was spurious to only few people. And by few, he meant two. And by two, he meant his Uncle Iroh and Katara.

Of course she knew. They both know how it feels not to know someone like the person they thought they were.

As Zuko swept his eyes over the assemblage, he met some of them with an unconvinced expression.

If those with suspicious minds decide to investigate in Zuko and Katara's investigation, they'll find themselves wrong to question their Fire Lord's validity. They're simply going to Kyoshi Island, Ty Lee's residence—a perfect spot to start finding "Mai."

As if they rehearsed it, General Iroh looked at his nephew and proceeded to stand up. Then Zuko stood up and took Katara's hand to help her get up. Katara had to admit, it's like Zuko and his uncle developed their own silent language.

Now all the delegates stood up.

"This meeting is adjourned," announced General Iroh.

And the last bow of the day took place as they did it together.

Like programmed machines, they strolled out of the hall.

_Not one good-bye_, frowned Katara. But she figured it's what she should've expected. AFter all, she and Zuko had something to prepare for for the days ahead.

...

Uncle Iroh pulled at their shoulders to face him.

He looked at each of them intently. "You two be careful," he said as if he knew he wasn't going to see them the next day.

"Keep your lotus tile with you," he advised to both of them. And then to Katara, "Take care of Zuko," he lowered his voice for only her to hear, "He likes papaya."

Katara giggled silently, although she did feel her stomach churn inside. She hated papaya.

Uncle Iroh's whisper seemed to fail. "I can hear you from here, Uncle," was his nephew's response.

The two teenagers watched Uncle Iroh walk out of the hall. And slowly, the massive double doors closed.

Katara closed her eyes and sighed—wondering what to do next. "What are we going to do now?"

"Hold on," her companion said—his voice sounding rather distant.

Katara looked to find Zuko swishing a brush this way and that on a scrap of paper. By the time she got to him, he already held out the parchment.

"It's a map of the secrept passageways, trap doors, shortcuts, et cetera, of the whole palace," he explained. Then Zuko pointed at a large square box, "This is the hall we're in now. This is your room. And here's my study. Hey," he said to make sure she met her gaze with his own, "Go to your room and start packing. Sneaking gear, water flasks—pack light."

He took her arm and led her to a pillar attached to the wall. There, on the side, he pushed a secret door open and let her in.

"Meet me in my study," he said. Then he closed the secret entrance.

She could hear his faint last words, "Be careful," behind the wall. Katara looked down the tunnel, lighted with old sconces. She sighed and looked at her fifteen-second map, then started walking.

* * *

The Fire Lord dug his elbows into his legs as his chin rested in the palms of his hands. Zuko's gold, half-lidded orbs watched the golden furnace fire burn pacifically.

There was a soft knock. And it came not from the main entrance of the Fire Lord's study, but behind his bookshelf.

Zuko got up from his seat to slide the bookshelf—revealing yet another trap door. It slid open and Katara appeared—dressed in her blue travelling tunic and travel pack in hand.

"That took longer than it was supposed to," Zuko pointed out indifferently.

"I had to make do of your make-do map," she reasoned out. "I forgot which crooked square was your office." Katara hoped he caught that small insult about his artistic skills in her last sentence—it was very small, but unnecessary anyway.

"So when are we leaving?" She decided to ask to change the aloofness of the atmosphere.

"Soon," replied Zuko, who was pacing prosaically—enough not to worry her. "We'll be using a war balloon... Well, a balloon."

Katara nodded and kept her azure gaze on Zuko's expression as he paced his office. "What are you thinking about?"

"Did you send a letter to Sokka?"

"Why, yes. Yes, I did. You didn't answer my question."

"What'd you tell him?"

"I just said you and I were coming for a visit. But I didn't say why, yet. You _still_ didn't answer my question," said Katara—sounding skeptical.

He looked at her skeptically. "Yet?" Zuko shook his suspicion away. "Sorry, I was just wondering... what if Ty Lee had no information?"

"Oh," she looked at the fire to think, "Well, what does that have to do with my sending a letter to Sokka? And besides, Uncle Iroh looked like he knew that Ty Lee knew something about your mother. If Ty Lee has nothing, we can call in Toph to crack Azula or your father."

"I just wanted to make sure you sent nothing that can be intercepted. Plus, I don't want Sokka to feel like he shouldn't know. I'd feel better if we told him that we're in this together... for the mission, I mean." There's the answer to that question. "And I suppose you're right, Azula's already lost it in our Agni Kai. Toph can crack her. But we'll just have to see what she can do with my father." And there was his response to her last part.

It was incredible how smoothly a conversation came with these two—even with two different topics at the same time. And to think, they couldn't even stand each other from the beginning. Both clever, and both strong. Their words could clash as fierce as lightning and thunder. But together, it was like the smooth and circling and spiraling current of a whirlpool—and the more they submitted, the more they were sucked in.

Zuko looked out the window to spy a new moon—four days away from a full moon. He then looked at his waterbending companion—staring at the fire.

Katara could feel his gaze burrow into her, and she had done nothing about it—as curious as she was about him, also.

If these two had something to say, they sure as hell weren't going to say it now.

"Should we go?" She asked without one glance, though she already knew the answer.

She heard Zuko sling his duels swords over his shoulder and got up. With his own travel pack in hand, "Let's go," was his response.

_Ladies first_, he insisted silently as he gestured her into the secret passage way.

Zuko slowly pulled the bookshelf back into its place after he joined her inside the tunnel. Then he quickly slid the trap door closed—leaving no sound trailing behind.

No longer was there any presence in the room as the fire continued to burn.

* * *

**R&R. You know the drill :9**

**I already have my seventh chapter on the way. I'll post it in about a week. If not, two. Promise. Deadlines keep me writing.**

**review!!!**

**-SFB**


	7. Chapter 7

**Would you look at that! Two new chapters within two weeks! :D I hope you guys are still sticking around. I was disappointed to find no reviews from the last one. Even though chapter 6 _was_ the boring chapter. (-sigh-)**

**Ah Well. Here's Chapter 7. It's a Taang chapter. I know, FINALLY! It's kinda fluffy. But just as insightful :3 **

**Disclaimer: ATLA ain't mine. Nor it's characters. Like Toph or Aang or Katara or Zuko. Though I wish Zuko was mine x3 but he belongs to Katara :DDD 3 Okay. 'Nuff spazzing. ENJOY. This story be mine, though :D**

* * *

Aang roamed the halls curiously—his staff still in hand. His light footsteps brought him to the part of the house that was burned by Zuko only a few months ago.

The tapestries that hung elegantly on the walls became scorched and black. Before the war ended, this was Ozai's beach house—and Zuko did not hesitate, at all, to burn down the false memories he had here.

They were still his memories, nonetheless—memories of his childhood. It was a shame losing those antique tapestries, though.

Aang liked Ember Island. There was just something about it that rejuvenated you senses—that cleared your mind.

That play, he remembered so freshly in his mind, was too embarassing. Yet, it hurt so much at the same time.

This island did a lot to him. Especially grow up. But apparently, not enough for that lovely goddess of a waterbender.

Aang started walking towards the balcony he liked. The view, he recalled, was simply amazing. You'd be mesmerized by the slow waves of ocean that delicately swept over the sandy earth, and how the wonderful horizon stretched across the vast sea. One would marvel at the endless sky, or wonder where this ancient earth began. Simply lovely.

This was the first place Aang thought of when he felt the need to be alone.

But Aang didn't want to be alone...

Something _shocked_ him when he walked onto the balcony.

First of all, it wasn't Azula.

Still—and second of all—he wasn't the only one there.

He stood there looking at the back of someone's pretty, little head.

Her hair was a long silky, black that ran down her petite figure. She lounged complacently on a rattan beach chair.

It wasn't til he noticed the familiar green and beige clothing, her Earth Kingdom headband, and—most of all—her bare feet, that he realized it was none other than Toph.

"How's it going, Twinkle Toes?" She acted as if she was expecting him the whole time. "I could hear your footsteps from a mile away." _Of course._

Toph took a sip of her tea and stared blankly at the vast oceanic view. Aang watched her silently.

She frowned. "Are you gonna stare all day or actually talk to me?"

An incredulous Aang opened and closed his mouth for words. "How—? Why—? I thought you went home." He finally managed.

Toph scoffed. _"Home_,_" _she grumbled, "I _went _home—I didn't _stay_. What are _you_ doing here, Twinkle Toes? Where's Sugar Queen?"

Somehow, even her nickname stung. But Aang had to be strong. His sifu was right there. She taught him how to stand his ground.

"She left me," he said—surprised by the melancholy in his voice.

"Sweetness _dumped_ you?"

Aang couldn't see her face. They hadn't moved an inch since they encountered.

"Hey," she turned to face him for the first time in months, "Are you okay?"

Aang look at her with ingenuity. Normally, he wouldn't stay this... contained. Or thoughtful, for that matter.

Toph was pretty. She was always pretty, Aang knew. But a little bit of that mature beauty was starting to show. Her little round, childish face was shaping into the beautiful heart it was meant to be—despite it being only a few months. It was a shame she couldn't see how lovely she was turning out.

Aang wondered, himself, how much he'd changed—if at all.

But that was Toph for you—one of the best things about her: she could care less.

"Not that I could care less about your staring—but I _do_ mind the awkward silence." She stood in front of him now. Her blank stare settled on his chin. Good to know he grew a little—she used to stare at his nose.

Toph tried to nudge him out of his train of thought. "C'mon Aang," she whined his name.

Aang noticed the strangeness of that phrase: she normally would call him by his actual name unless she felt it was necessary. And "necessary" was a long shot for Toph.

"What's with you? Why're you here?" She tried again.

_Huh_, wondered Aang. She wasn't usually this concerned about anything. What changed her?

She nudged him again, striking his chest with two fingers—pushing him a little ways back... and leaving him rather astounded.

Aang grunted. "You're pretty," he blurted out.

It was too late to take back his wards. Two seconds later, he found himself on the floor—the breath knocked clean out of him.

"Quit the crap, Aang," she accusedly pointed her finger at him. "Are you out of your mind? Did Missus Fussybritches hurt you?" She partly mocked.

She faced away from him now—letting her long bangs hide the heat in her cheeks. They were only red because she was mad. At least, that's what she told herself.

Aang stuttered at first, "I-I don't know... I thought... I thought I—" He struggled to find the right words. All in all, he really didn't know what he was trying to say. The thought was there, but nothing verbal could come out to process it. Aang scratched his bald head to his chagrin.

"I thought I wasn't the only one?" Was that the right choice of words? Well, first of all, was it _true_?

"Yes," he answered his personal question aloud.

Toph didn't respond in any way—partly unaware that he was actually answering his own question. She waited.

Aang rubbed his neck and shrugged sheepishly. "I sort of really meant it when I said you were pretty."

Toph's pale-green eyes widened slowly, trying to make sense of his sentence. She threw her hands in the air and started walking back to her seat. "I knew it. I _knew_ you were losing your mind. I knew you were going to _crack_ someday." She plopped into her lounge chair, "I knew it since you lost all sleep before the first invasion."

He walked and sat next to her cross-legged.

"I don't know why you're out of it, Twinkle Toes. I mean, I can guess why. I guess I'm wondering _how_. Gimme some answers, already. I'm impatient."

Aang didn't know where to start.

"Give me the gist of it. Details later," she handed him a simple solution.

Aang sighed, "She dumped me," he admitted. "I guess I saw it coming, too. You were right."

"I know I'm right," she accepted proudly. "What am I right about?"

"You were right about how those actors in that play portrayed us dead on."

She nodded—realizing where he realized the parts that were inevitable in reality.

_Why, he's just a little brother to me._

"I didn't exactly mean it to apply to everything." She tried to lighten the mood, "The Fire Lord didn't kill you." She said with a weak smile.

"It's not your fault, Toph—"

"Who's said anyone was blaming me?" She shot so quickly.

"No one is. Sorry." He reminded himself to use better word choice around her.

"I was kidding, Twinkle Toes. Lighten up." She punched him playfully.

Nonetheless, Toph's punches still hurt. The only upside, Aang reminded himself, was that it was her way of showing affection. He smiled—wishing subconsciously that she could see.

"Okay. So. Details. What'd'ya mean when you said you thought you weren't the only one?" Straight and to the point. Yep. It was still Toph.

Aang started—and he started from the beginning. Okay, not the _very _beginning. "When I kissed her—when she kissed me after the war... I thought we were ready. I thought we were ready to be together. I thought she was ready to love me..." Aang scratched his head in slight frustration—mostly unsure of how to continue.

"She _was_ ready, you know. She was. I could feel it in both of you." By the tone of her voice, Aang couldn't tell whether her words were supposed to be consoling or not.

"I saw her change after that. I felt myself change, too." Aang rubbed his neck uncomfortably. "To be honest, it was kind of weird to act like a couple. I mean, my heart jumped a lot when we kissed. But it jumped less and less the more we did, I guess. I thought it was her. Sometimes I could see in her eyes that she was out of it—like her mind was meaningless. She stared at the fire a lot...

"But it wasn't just her. It was me, too. Life kind of got boring once I got what I want. I think I started to question if I really got what I wanted. Life got sort of... purposeless." Aang gazed at the blue horizon. The orange sun was getting ready its descent to touch the calm sea. "I started to miss the old Katara—my best friend."

Aang felt an intermitting pressure on his shoulder. He looked to find that it was Toph's hand patting his shoulder.

"You're a deeper thinker than I thought, Twinkle Toes." Toph smiled softly. She left her hand on his shoulder. He felt his hand hover over hers for a considerable amount of time. At first she thought he didn't want her to touch him.

Instead, he surprised her by keeping his grip on hers and started playing with her hand—flipping it to one side and then the other. Exploring. Toph blushed infinitesimally.

"I left after I talked to her two or three days ago, I think. I wanted to know. I _needed_ to know if—" he traced the creases of her hand with light pressure, "If we still loved each other." Aang stared blankly at the view, now—replaying the scene in his head. His hold on her hadn't ceased.

"You asked her if she loved you." Toph pulled her hand away and touched what warmth he left there.

Aang cringed slightly at her gesture, embarassed. He pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them.

Again, he stared at the—now dimmer—ocean. Half the sun was engulfed by water.

"I kissed her and she got mad at me. 'Not under these circumstances,' she said. She said she was glad that I was safe." Aang's voice grew dimmer, but softer. "I think I know what she meant by 'circumstances.' I think we were destined to be _just _friends. Nothing more than best friends—or even siblings. To be honest, I was relieved. It still kind of hurt though... when I walked away and left her. But I was happy. I'm happy we got that all out. I'm happy that she's my best friend again.

Aang relaxed and stretched his limbs in front of him. Her silent response to his ending was so long he thought Toph fell asleep.

He looked at her pretty face and the peaceful expression she wore. Her eyes were closed.

"Toph?" An innocent and rather regretful tone lingered in his voice. He didn't want to find out that he had just wasted his thoughtful conclusion on nothing.

"Toph?" He said her name more sincerely. He wanted to nudge her awake, but thought otherwise.

Aang sighed in disappointment and got up, defeated.

Before he could trudge to the exit, her voice startled him.

"Don't leave, Twinkle Toes. I was just thinking."

"I thought you fell asleep," Aang said, sheepishly. His expression turned curious, "What were you thinking about?"

"Oh, reminiscing, I guess,"—was that the right word? Toph ignored it.

Aang resumed his position next to her and waited with open ears... and hopefully, an open heart and mind.

"It was a weird journey watching you two—"

"Watching?" Aang interrupted.

"You know what I mean," Toph said sourly. "It was like watching the sauciest and most dramatic soap opera ever. And it wasn't just you two either." She smiled lightly and shook her head.

"Man, you should've seen how _smitten_ you were! And how completely _oblivious_ Katara was." She continued, "It was up and down and on and off—we didn't know when the damn drama would end—"

"'We?' Up and down? What?" Aang was hurt by the language she used. Was it _that_ bad?

"Stop interrupting, Twinkle Toes." She flicked him on the ear.

"You see," she explained, "It wasn't just _you_. You were always preoccupied with yourself and Katara—god, you were clueless, Aang." Toph blew her bangs out of her face, only to have them land back in the same place over her eyes. "There was Jet, Haru, Zuko even! And me..."

"You?" he asked, confused. He wasn't getting the point.

Toph inhaled slowly—preparing herself for whatever she was ready to say. "I liked you," she confessed, sounding rather helpless.

His teacher? A stubborn, brave, strong-willed, but pretty earthbender like her fall for a weak, clumsy idiot like him?

Aang did not dare look at her face. But he wanted to. Was she angry, horrified, helpless, hopeless? He very much wanted to see her.

"Why?" He said so softly that he knew only Toph's sensitive ears would hear.

"You set me free. I was chained and bound to that dreadful house in Gaoling. My parents thought they were protecting me. They didn't protect my heart and my longing for freedom. You were my first friend and you understood my potential—you understood _me_. And you were my means of escape." Toph blew on her bangs again—a deep scarlet tainted her young cheeks.

"W-Wh—," Aang wasn't sure whether he should ask his question. But it was bound to come out sometime. "Why did you give up?"

"I didn't," she replied softly. "I just backed away. Everyone saw how you made googly eyes at Katara. And at one point, we all thought it wasn't going to work..."

"When was that?"

"When Zuko came—when he joined our little group. They had really bad tension. It was like something happened between him and Katara—and no one knew what."

Something flashed into Aang's memory: the first time Katara and Zuko were left alone—in the Crystal Catacombs under Ba Sing Se. He never found out what actually happened. But when he and Iroh came barging in, he caught them so close to each other. She was holding his face, caressing it, almost. Her other hand was holding something else—Aang couldn't recall what. But after that, only the play they saw on Ember Island filled in the gaps.

"And then when you disappeared before the comet came, he asked her to help him defeat Azula. No one ever got the details from them. They just suddenly show up with Katara supporting his weight because he got shot with lightning—and the only news they bring us is that Azula became a prisoner to the Fire Nation, and a prisoner to herself.

"Suddenly, Sparky's boring knife lady—"

"Mai."

"Right," Toph said indifferently. "Mai. Whatever. She comes out of nowhere and takes him back. Now, I don't know what Sparky was _thinking_, but then _you_ come out of nowhere after defeating the Fire Lord and Katara picks _you_!"

Aang saw where she was going with this.

"It makes _no sense_!" Toph's voice shook in frustration.

Aang finally gathered up the courage to look at his fierce companion—worry for her well-being (physical _and_ emotional) drove him to. His gray eyes widened in shock at the sight of her red-rimmed and watery ones.

Toph wiped them away anxiously with one arm. She had no sniffles as she continued her story... or rant, rather.

"Geez, this is stupid," she mumbled.

Toph took a slow breath and sighed deeply. She spoke more softly now, "When we celebrated in Ba Sing Se, she followed you outside. And everyone else watched quietly from the side lines—even Sparky. I don't know what _he_ was thinking. But I thought to myself, 'So this is how it's going to end. _This _is our happy ending.' Great." Toph blew on her bangs again.

"But it wasn't happy for you, was it, Toph?" Aang asked timidly. He looked over the dark horizon. The sun was now beneath the ocean. The moon was shone new. And the stars around her were very faint.

Toph thumped his bald head with her fist. It wasn't enough to hurt, but Aang flinched.

"Of course I was happy, you numbskull. I was happy for you," she grumbled.

Aang rubbed his head, habitually. Then he bit his lower lip. Now _that's_ a first. He only did that when he was nervous. And not like diplomatic-stress nervous. Like I-hope-I'm-not-gonna-do-anything-stupid nervous.

"And now you're here... without your happy ending," she sighed.

The silence that followed after slowly ate Aang alive. The only thing that made him aware of his consciousness was the fact that he was trying so hard not to break the skin of his lip.

He heard her sigh again. And this time, Toph got up. The movement of her long streak of black, silky hair stirred the air around her.

Aang heard a loud thumping inside his ears. It sounded like the hooves of an ostrich-horse at full speed. His face burned. It took him until he saw her already through the entrance that he realized it was his heavily-beating heart banging on the walls of his chest.

Before Toph could take another step down the hallway, Aang's emotion took over.

"I'm happy without my happy ending," he blurted out. "I'm happy without _that kind_ of happy ending."

Toph paused momentarily. Aang was unable to see her expression, but she kept a small grin to herself.

She lifted her foot to take another step, but Aang somehow ambled behind her and caught her tightly in an embrace.

Two young teenagers—hugging longingly—in the middle of a burnt hallway. Aang's cheek rested on her head as he took in the sweet scent of her hair: a fresh coat of earth.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled softly in her hair. Aang managed a husky tone to his voice.

Slowly, Toph lifted her arms and took hold of his. She gently pried them off her as she tried very hard not to show that she was shaking. He let her remove his grip on her.

Aang felt a wave of rejection wash over him. But as Toph began to walk again, he followed her in silence.

Toph was well-aware of his presence behind her as she walked to her room. She acted as if he wasn't there, but left the door open for him.

Toph crawled into bed silently. And for a moment, Aang just stood there—watching her sleeping figure lie peacefully. He wasn't sure whether she was still awake—she wasn't facing him—and her breathing was so even. But how could she fall asleep so quickly after what just happened?

Aang decided to sit on the floor cross-legged, and he continued to watch her.

His eyelids were heavy and he could feel his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he saw the room, and Toph along with it, disappear now and then.

A cold breeze stirred through the window and chilled his skin. Aang got up in defeat.

But instead of leaving, he had a burst of creativity.

He walked over to her comfy bed. It was a bed that belonged to royalty—so it was large enough for the both of them.

Aang simply snuggled next to her under the silky bedsheets. They faced away from each other.

The corners of her lips quirked up slowly.

* * *

**C'mon, guys. You know the drill. READ AND REVIEW. REVIEW! I'm having a hectic schedule, but I'll try harder :( If anything, I'm continuing this for my benefit. Because I wanna see Avatar end the Zutarian and SENSIBLE way :D**

**Last chapter was disappointing to see no reviews. It was kind of like having no one like my story :(**

**Review, pleeaaaase. For my strength and will. Oh wow, corny xD**

**-SFB**


	8. Chapter 8

**I can't _believe_ my other documents are gone! Now I can never edit the other chapters! AGHH. On the bright side, here's good news for you Zutarians out there: http : / / community . livejournal . com / capslock _ zutara / 384546 . html (just take out all the spaces between the slashes and periods and colons and underscores)**

**That's right. It kinda makes me think—all of those reasons that Kataangers and Maikoans use to justify the canon-ness of their ship were all quick getups from Bryke to try to keep the story line together. And all that Zutarian evidence we found is all actually right! HAHAH (sorry, I'm not bashing)**

**Anyway, on an even brighter side.. Yay! an update! Sorry for taking so long. This chapter's gonna be short because usually I try to keep up a 3,000 to 4,000 word standard for each chapter. But after reading GreenifyMe's article (which btw, was deleted because of trolls so I took the site from LJ), I was inspired :D So here you go.**

**Disclaimer: ZUTARA, the ONE TRUE PAIR of AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER belongs to Bryke and Nick! Uh, thank yuh--thank yuh very muuuch.**

* * *

"We're right—" Zuko's finger hovered slowly over the document while his eyes scanned quickly. "Here."

Her straining eyes tried to make do with what little light they had around them. They were still in the war balloon, and they sat close to the furnace.

Katara studied the map curiously. Her expression only grew more frustrated.

Not one single island. Not even a tiny speck of land around them. Just pure, blue, endless water.

Did she mind? Oh, please—water? Hardly.

Kyoshi Island was due northeast of the South Pole. From the Fire Nation, it's a dozen times that distance—they've only made it quarter far, and it's been six long hours.

How could she be tired of travelling now? Has it been _that_ long? It was only a few months ago that she and her friends stopped flying _nonstop_ all over the world.

Well, what was the difference now? Was it because she didn't know what to expect? Or was it because it was just her and Zuko now?

It'd be too inconvenient for the latter to get in the way of the mission—whether it would spark a fight between them or...something else.

Katara's absurd thoughts were shaken away by a single word spoken by his voice: "Daybreak."

She turned her attention to the outstretched sea—her azure eyes set on the horizon.

He wasn't the only one who knew when the sun rose. Sure—firebenders rose with the sun. But she could feel it, too.

She could feel the crisp, morning air. She could see the sun beginning to peek over the vast horizon to tint the dim sky a soft blue. She could feel her cold element awake to the fresh warmth.

"It's beautiful," she said as she turned to him.

He nodded slowlly, but never took his eyes off the sun.

Suddenly, she found herself studying his features—the side of his face that made Zuko...well, Zuko.

Although his scar was his most distinguished feature—both physically and symbolically—it's not what had her mesmerized.

His eyes shined a brilliant gold. She could watch the sunrise in his eyes. The reflection also reminded her of the comforting fire that she clung so close to at the South Pole. She saw a hint of regret in them—but also a determination.

He suddenly looked at her, and Katara's consciousness snapped awake. She instantly looked back at the sunrise—regretting her dumbfounded admiration. However, she noticed that spark of curiosity in his expression before she looked away. Katara began to wonder: could he see anything in her eyes?

"What?" He asked, curiously. _Idiot!_ Katara mentally kicked herself. _Of course _he could see her staring at him.

"I was just wondering..." She waivered hestitantly. Katara quickly replaced the timidity of her tone with aloofness. "Are we there, yet?"

Zuko blinked twice—also acknowledging the change in subject. She got worried as soon as she received that appalled expression on his face. It was the 'Are-you-serious?' look. Did she just do something incredibly stupid? Was her staring _that _disturbing?

The incredulous reaction in his eyes were still there as the corners of his mouth quirked up, "You just asked me that fifteen minutes ago."

_What?_ Katara's brow furrowed immensely. "I did not!" She said, offended by his accusation. What was he trying to say? That's she's deaf? —Dumb? —Old?

The threat on her face didn't once phase him. Zuko chuckled lightly and smiled unharmingly. "I know this balloon's three times slower than Appa," he admitted, "But here," he showed her the map again, "We're almost half way to the coast of the South Pole,"—she lightened at the name—"There's a small town called Kiwon. We'll stop there."

Katara was puzzled. "I've never heard of that place before."

"That's because it's a Fire Nation town. It used to be Hikoma. But the Fire Nation colonized it under my father's rule." Zuko saw her temper on the brink and reacted quickly, "But before you say anything against me, I've already talked to all the residents. You'd be surprised how happy they are over there. They don't want to change the name, either—it's become popular for their tea exports."

Katara raised an eyebrow, "Why do you say it's _surprising _there happy?" _What? As if _Water Tribe peasants_ can't make the best of a situation?_

Zuko almost read her mind. He shook his head, "When we—I mean, when the Fire Nation under Ozai colonized that town, the inhabitants were pretty stubborn"—he ignored Katara's chagrin at this word—"And some Fire Nation actually made a real life there. Like, you know...families...with the, uh, Water Tribe." The corners of his lips twitched infinitesmally.

To his surprise, he heard Katara giggle.

"United by _tea_," she snickered as she tried to contain herself.

Zuko rolled his eyes. "Real mature," he said sarcastically. But he chuckled a little, too.

Katara looked at him unbelievably, then hit him upside the head. "I wasn't talking about _that_!"

He winced at the contact, though it didn't hurt. But he automatically rubbed the spot where she hit him. "About what?" He refuted. And then his eyes widened quite noticeably, "I wasn't take about _that_ either! What kind of mind do you think I have?!"

"Oh," she said sheepishly, embarrassingly. Katara desperately dug her mind for an excuse.

"Well, maybe I'm just tired," she convinced herself.

Zuko shrugged. "Maybe you are. You should rest. We _did_ stay up for six hours."

"What about you?"

He grinned. "The sun is out. I rise with the sun. I'd rather not sleep."

"Suit yourself."

He nodded. "We'll be there before noon. Good night—er, I mean, good morning."

Katara attempted to yawn and mumbled drowsily. She was tired, yes. Sleepy, no. But she closed her eyes anyway in hope of a faster day.

* * *

Katara opened her eyes.

In that instant, her mind processed nothing but shock at the scene she beheld.

In front of her was a bustling town at an average pace. Street vendors were selling spices and herbs, sea lion meat, and tea—lots and lots of tea. They were surrounded by endless, white tundra. And so much red, and blue. Together.

"So this must be Kiwon," she murmured to herself.

Katara looked down. What in the world was she wearing? Where were her flasks? Instead of the blue-hued travelling tunic she _knew_ she wore the night they left the Fire Nation—it was a parka. One like the one she wore deeper into the heart of the South Pole. This one was blue also, but thinner. At some familiar seams and designs, there were splashes of red. Fire Nation Red. Her boots were black instead of brown. The skirt was shorter than standards—and the white fur that laced onto the edges were now thinner and tinted a grayish-blue color.

To be honest, Katara considered such fashion sense as silly. Yet, it was something to marvel at. She admired these intricate designs—this clash of red and blue. A surprisingly beautiful combination. She just couldn't believe it.

How did she get here anyway? For as far as she can tell, she couldn't even remember when they landed. How long have they _really_ been here?

And speaking of _them_, where was Zuko?

Katara scanned the village again. She realized that their balloon wasn't anywhere in sight. Katara looked harder into the faces of the townspeople.

Someone tapped her on the shoulder. Katara whirled around in alert. The sudden interruption in her concentration made her fall a little ways back.

Her face frowned at who it was. "Zuko! Where the hell were you?!" She said with tight fists clenched at her sides.

He held up a line and hook with three dead fish hanging lazily. "I went fishing," he said, puzzled. "I thought you were going to do some grocery shopping?"

"Grocery shopping?" She repeated more fiercely. She then lowered her voice drastically, "What happened to the mission?"

"Mission?" He asked, confused. Then Zuko rolled his eyes. "Right. Mission. Let's go home. I'll need to smoke the fish."

_Home?_ Katara had no idea where this was going—but with nothing to do about the situation, she followed Zuko anyway.

Ten minutes of walking passed by, and Katara was starting to trail behind until Zuko stole a glance at her.

"Hey," he motioned one hand at her, signaling to walk next to him. "C'mon, you're walking to slow."

Katara narrowed her eyes at his comment. She stopped in her tracks and stayed right where she was.

Zuko looked back again—this time, with plain disappointment because of her distance. He decided to slow to her pace for her.

Then, with his line of fish in his right hand, he snaked his left arm around her waist and pulled her close to him. So close, she was sure she could feel every bend and crease on the side of his body.

Her eyes were wide in shock as the wheels in her mind stopped turning. Somehow, her legs kept trudging on as if this inner dramatic reaction never happened. A fierce scarlet burned in her cheeks.

She dared not look up at him, though—for fear of looking stupid. She had absolutely _no_ idea what was going on.

Her body remained somewhat stiff, and she tried to calm herself down to prevent him from noticing her tension.

"Katara." He was in front of her now. "What's wrong? We're home?"

Katara snapped out of her time-consuming trance and finally took in the scenery in front of her. "Home?" She asked, unbelievably. And she was right to ask that one-word question.

Indeed, some _home_ this was. This definitely was _not_ the ordinary snow hut of the South Pole.

This was a _grandeur_ of a house. Probably not as magnificent as a palace, but something equivalent to a...a beach house—built _exceptionally_ for the snowy tundra. Instead of the dark panels of mahogany made for the Fire Lord's typical beach house, this one was built from the stunning ivory of sturdy elephant-whale bone.

Significantly, Katara saw no Fire Nation symbol—nor the Water Tribe emblem.

It was a unique symbol, but it was something she'd seen before—something very remarkable to her, personally. It was like two drops of paint—one white, the other black—circling each other. The eye of the white drop was red, the eye of the black one was blue—as if they both had a piece of each other within themselves.

The emblem was none other than Tui and La—the moon and ocean spirits of the Spirit Oasis at the North Pole, engaged in an eternal dance of true balance.

Katara stared up in awe until Zuko came out with a child in his arms.

"Mama's home!" The child around two years said with glee.

As she gaped at the wonderfully innocent baby, the only thought that crossed her mind was: _This _has _to be the lovliest child in the whole world_.

She had beautiful molten gold, almond-shaped eyes; smooth, mocha skin; and wonderfully wavy, dark chocolate locks of hair.

"Mama!" She squealed again with a voice that could melt a grown man's heart. Her short arms reached out toward Katara as she grasped the air again and again with her tiny hands.

Wait a minute... _Mama?_

Katara's azure eyes grew round in shock. Her eyes flickered back and forth between Zuko and the child—focusing on the shiny topazes of their eyes.

Zuko immediately read her reaction. "Katara? Are you okay?"

"Mama?" The lovely child now said with concern.

"Katara? What's wrong? Katara!" Zuko launched his free hand at her shoulder.

At his touch, everything went black.

* * *

"Katara." Said a hazy, yet familiar voice.

She felt her body being rocked back and forth.

"Katara..." Said the voice again in a sing-songy tone. She heard him groan from frustration, and her body shook even more.

"Wake up, peasant!"

Katara's eyes fluttered open.

The first image that her brain processed was Zuko's face in front of a background of wide blue skies and white nimbus clouds.

"Wow," Zuko spoke with interest. "I can't believe that actually worked—Whoa!"

Katara shot up so quickly, it was fortunate that Zuko reacted just as fast or they both would've been knocked out cold.

She looked around frantically as Zuko watched amused.

"Where are we? We're not in Kiwon?"

Zuko raised his only eyebrow. "No... But almost. Look," and he pointed out towards the horizon.

Katara realized they were still on the balloon. Her eyes followed where Zuko directed. Sure enough, there on the blue ocean, was a slim strip of white coast with shady lines and dots—too tiny to specify which were people and structures.

Katara sighed in relief. She rubbed her temples with two fingers—hoping she'd forget what she dreamt.

She looked up lazily at Zuko, who looked at her a little more than curious, himself.

"What?" She asked when she noticed his curiosity.

Zuko rubbed the back of his neck and looked away. "You kept mumbling 'Home' and 'Mama' in your sleep. I don't mean to be nosy, but what in the _world_ were you dreaming about?"

Katara turned pink. She never talked in her sleep before. Or did no one just ever mention it to her?

Zuko still waited for an answer, but katara never found the words.

His face grew long, "You don't want to tell me, do you?"

She shook her head, apologetically. "I'll tell you about it someday. Just not now."

Zuko nodded understandingly. His eyes trailed back to the open sea. "That bad, huh?"

"I don't know _what_ it was." She shook her head again to try to get rid of the images.

"Maybe it was a sign," he said as they still established no eye contact.

Katara stayed quiet for a long time. Her final response: "I don't know."

* * *

**I know, I know. It's been too long. And this is such a short chapter. I guess it's more like a filler chapter. Not much plot advances. I'm sorry xP but look on the bright side, ONE MORE WEEK OF SCHOOL. Well, for me. And that means... more updating!!! YEA-YUH.**

**Please don't forget to Review. Thank you for those who do, I LAAAFFF YOU.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9, you guys! It's a long one, brace yourselves :p Long in my opinion, that is.**

**Anyway, I'm going camping this week. I'll try to work on chapter 10. Prepare for the summer :'DDD**

**Disclaimer: Zutara originally belonged to Bryke. But they left it up to fanon. That's us. Avatar: TLA and its characters and the show's plot, however, belong to them -_-;**

_

* * *

Arms are up, limbs are flowing—good...good! _Teacher smiled in accomplishment at her student's form.

"Good work, Lian!" Applauded the teacher.

Then her face twisted when she saw her student's next move. _Ooh..._ Spoke a little too soon.

"Bend your knees a little more, sweetie—there you go."

Suddenly, the sifu heard a squawk behind her with that excessive flapping noise for the ninth time today—accompanied by those two same, familiar giggles. Suki sighed.

"Koko! Stop harassing Hawky—Ugh! Ty Lee! Don't encourage her!" Suki groaned, again. Fortunately, she stopped her hand just inches away from her forehead—the third time she's endangered her make up to smearing. It was a terrible bad habit she picked up from Sokka.

The two bowed quickly, sheepishly—but not enough to faze them. Koko quickly responded "Sorry Sifu" at the same time Ty Lee apologized "Sorry Suki"—again. They hung their heads as Suki rolled her eyes and turned back to her student. They giggled as she did so—again.

Suki let out a quick sigh. Just because her back was turned didn't mean she couldn't hear them. Her eyes trailed her student's movements as she practiced Form II. "Lian, sweetie, don't let your arms fall—that makes your face an open target," Suki said the last part in a sing-songy voice.

Lian froze mid-step and nodded—refocusing on her routine and incorporating her sifu's advice.

Sure, nowadays Suki spent her time training future Kyoshi Warriors. But with nothing to do, especially after the war ended, she often found herself pondering how life fared—and not just particularly for her. Frequent questions popped into her head...

_I wonder how Aang's doing?_

_I wonder how Aang and the Fire Lord are doing?_

_Dear spirits, when will Sokka finally propose to me?_

_What's going on with Aang and Katara nowadays?_

The third one came up the most—it's only natural for her. Sokka's moved in with her and everything. She'd even let him grow that ridiculous scruff of a beard—his excuse being 'Trying to settle in like a real man.'

The last question came up second most often—the main reason being that they, honestly, made no sense to her.

First things first, who _didn't_ see that Aang practically _worshipped_ the ground she stepped on? Frankly, Katara herself. It was strange because Suki knew that Katara knew about Aang's crazy crush on her. And yeah, she mostly dismissed it. _Why?_ Aang was her best friend. It wasn't in her heart to push him away.

What was even stranger: Katara and Aang, an _item._ Boy, was _that_ a bite in the ass. It surprised her, definitely. In fact, it was kind of cute. _Just_ cute. She remembered watching their little moment on the balcony while the celebrated in Ba Sing Se. Everyone was just too happy to _think—_think that Katara was more of a _mother_ to Aang than anything else. It was only months after when reality sunk in and Suki _really_ started to question their relationship. She wondered if _they_ did.

In conclusion—and in all honesty—Suki thought Katara had better interest in, well, other guys. She and Zuko had an electrical storm brewing between them. Oh, but the _attraction_ was plain obvious. She and Haru, even! That creepy, mustached, Earth-bending, I-wonder-if-he's-really-seventeen _teenager_. Now Aang—Aang was a direct blow to the head.

Hawky, out of nowhere, squawked noisily behind her—instantly losing her train of thought, but having it hanging loosely on a thin piece of thread.

Suki groaned. _I knew I shouldn't have put them so close to Hawky—_she heard the two girls giggle, again—_Bad idea to pair them up, too._

Lacking anticipation, she slowly turned around to chide the girls. But they weren't even six feet within the messenger bird. Koko and Ty Lee exchanged glances, then looked at their leader innocently. "Wasn't us."

Hawky faced outside the window, squawking towards the sky.

Suddenly, in swooped a messenger hawk—admittedly larger than Hawky—and landed squarely on Hawky's perch. Hawky, himself, seemed unfazed.

Suki paced quickly to the messenger hawk and untied the little scroll attached to its leg. On the note was distinctly the Fire Nation emblem—her eyes grew wide at this. Her fingers moved fast to unroll the scroll and her green irises even faster as she scanned through the letter. Suki's eyes lit up and grew even larger as she reached the end of the note and the signature at the bottom. Her legs started pushing forward before she realized it and soon enough she was out the door—headed towards the bay.

...

_Ah, yes. Scritch, scratch. That feels _so_ good._ Sokka had his eyes closed—his scruffy chin between finger and thumb as he was fully appreciating its manly roughness. Its huskiness. Its total awesomeness.

He was relaxing on a boulder next to the sea shore. His legs were propped up on another boulder, a fishing pole in one hand.

In the midst of scratching his beard-in-progress, he cracked an eye open. Sokka decided to get up and speculate his reflection in the water.

"Why, hello there," he winked, "Who's _this_ devilishly handsome, young gentle_man_?" He grinned madly at himself and swore he saw that twinkle in his so-called white teeth.

"The name's Sokka," he replied to himself, "Sokka _Manly Man_."

"Well, Sokka _Manly Man_, my good _man_, you have exquisite taste in good looks."

"Pish posh! You're making me blush!" He said with a wave of his hand. "Ah yes, well... I _was_ born with it. Looks can't be bought, you know!"

His reflection gasped gleefully, "You don't say—!!"

"...Sokka?"

He whipped his head around at his name—lucky for him he didn't get whiplash. Sokka blinked twice at the figure he was now looking at.

"Suki? How long have you been standing there?" He asked with a raised eyebrow and a burn in his ears.

Suki raised her own eyebrow. "I just got here."

He sighed to his relief.

The following awkward silence made him rub the back of his neck nervously.

"What's that?" He finally acknowledged the scroll in her hand.

She tossed it to him. "See for yourself, _manly man_."

Sokka narrowed his eyes at her, then snatched the scroll amidst his staring contest. Immediately, he focused on the scroll now in his hand.

_Huh. Fire Nation symbol... Zuko_, Sokka anticipated as he worked so slowly to open the scroll. Suki waited patiently—oh please, as if she haven't had to wait for him before.

_Dear Sokka,_

_How are you and Suki doing? How are things going at Kyoshi Island? Did you even propose to her yet?—_

Sokka's blue eyes widened at the question and raised an eyebrow so high it practically flew off his forehead. He instantly cast a glance at Suki and she seemed to read his mind. She shrugged and smirked sweetly. This letter was too..._chummy_ to come from Zuko. Sokka continued reading...

_Anyway, Zuko and I are on our way there. We're just coming for a short visit. We'll tell you about it when we get there. Throw us a welcome party or something. I miss you. See you soon._

_Love,  
Katara_

Sokka slowly lowered the letter and shifted his view back to Suki with a confused expression. _Tell us about what?_ She shrugged in return, but with the same bewildered look on her face.

_Katara with Zuko?_

No words were exchanged.

* * *

With one hand on the rail of the balloon's basket, Zuko swiftly swung his legs over the barrier and landed on the frozen tundra of mud with a soft thump.

He looked over at Katara—still in the basket—gripping its rail, too, and preparing herself for the leap.

Automatically, he extended his hand to her, "Do you need help?"

With her lips in a straight line, she took a brief glimpse at Zuko, then at his hand in front of her. Barely two seconds of thought passed by, and she briskly looked away.

"No, that's okay," she affirmed.

Zuko watched as she swung her legs more graceful than he and landed with hardly a sound at all. Without one glance at him, she dusted off the imaginary dirt on the skirt of her tunic. She reached back into the basket of the war balloon to grab her pack.

Zuko turned away to gaze at the town, but paid no attention to it in his mind.

The trip to Kiwon was alright in the beginning—until Katara had that dream of hers. Then it was _unbearable_. Awkward silence usually never happens between them, but at that time, it was the main event. And although he tried his hardest to break it, it took her nothing but a single _yes_, _no_, or _I don't know_ to soil his efforts. It probably lasted only about half an hour. But it was definitely the longest thirty minutes of his life...

_Zuko rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. "You sure you don't want to talk about it?"_

_"Yes."_

_He sighed with the knuckles of his and pressing against his cheeks. After staring at the growing coast of Kiwon blankly for five seconds, he turned her way and attempted to establish eye contact._

_Unsuccessful._

_Katara's azure eyes stayed glued to the ocean. And her chin glued to the palm of her hand._

_Zuko sighed again. "Really? Was it that bad?"_

_Perhaps he was just imagining it, but he swore he saw her stone face hesitate, those full lips quiver, the unblanking of her blue eyes as deep as the ocean—whoa, wait. What in Agni's name was he doing? Staring at her with...with those kind of thoughts? What the hell was he thinking?_

_"I don't know," was her trance-breaking response._

_Zuko's eyes swiftly trailed back to the now-largish land of Kiwon._

_Out of Zuko's sight, Katara closed her eyes and shook her head in embarassment as she buried her pink, burning face in her hands._

...

What _was_ he thinking?

"Let's go," he heard her voice say behind him.

Zuko turned to look at her, relieved she said something other than the terrible trio of _yes_, _no_, and _I don't know_. But when his topaz eyes settled on her usual pretty face, he became _disturbed_ by her expression. Mad, even. It was so blank; so_ dead_. It reminded him of Mai. And that's not Katara he knew. She was supposed to be cheering _him_ up, not the other way around.

He just wanted _Katara_ back. The one with the sweet curve in her lips and the twinkle in her deep, sapphire eyes. The Katara with the blush in her tan cheeks that she'd hide every now and then for reasons he didn't quite understand. He didn't want her to become a big blah like Mai.

As Katara passed by with that same, dead expression on her face, Zuko made it his resolve to win the old Katara back. Whatever she dreamt, he'll find out someday—and whatever it was, was not going to stop their friendship...or whatever it was. And there's no way they'd complete their mission without the compassionate Katara he trusted.

"Hey, what are you doing? I'm hungry," she said, now fifteen feet ahead of him.

Zuko smiled a knowing grin at her and she rolled her eyes very Mai-like. Katara continued walking towards the town and headed for the market.

To her shock, Zuko gripped her hand and pulled her with him—forcing her to push herself faster. When he saw the familiar scarlet rise in her pretty face, and he smiled inwardly.

With determination written across his features, he stalked off more so, her hand still in his. "Let's go eat."

* * *

Katara flared her nostrils at the sight of the fruit in Zuko's hand.

"Why are you making that face? I love papaya! C'mon, just try it," said Zuko as he brought the fruit up closer to her face. Katara instantly clamped a hand over her nose.

She took one step back, "Ugh...No, Zuko. I hate papaya." Katara stuck her tongue out. At this point, he couldn't tell whether it was at the papaya or at himself.

Zuko cocked his head to the side and tsked. "Aw, why not?"

He took out his knife rapidly and swiftly cut the papaya in half—exposing the countless black seeds that surrounded the mucky, red-orangish middle.

Katara winced and held fast to the bottom half of her face. "That's why," she pointed at the core, "All those seeds and the juice and shreds of guts in the middle... it's just so—ugh...nasty."

Zuko smirked at her and raised his only eyebrow. Then he took his dagger again and carved out all the seeds and muck she mentioned in one swipe. Now he presented the "clean" papaya to her with _Duh_ imprinted in his expression.

As she stuck out her tongue again, it was obvious it was at him now. Zuko simply rolled his eyes, "Just try it, now. Please?"

She shot him a glare, but it had no impact. "I can still imagine all the disgusting guts in there," she said with a nasally voice. "I can't do it," confessed Katara.

Zuko put his hefty knife to use again and cut the meat of the papaya in little squares. With his dagger back in place, he took one square and held it up to her. "Please? One bite. It's not that bad, I promise."

She took another step back. "I know how it tastes like, Zuko," she retorted with a muffled voice because she still clamped her hand over her mouth. "I just can't get the image of it guts out of my mind when I eat it. It makes me wanna throw up." Her eyes crossed lethargically at the thought.

Zuko's hand didn't relent. She'd seen people die from the war and even lived through it and now she can't bear to look at a papaya? He held the papaya square just six inches from her face. "Just close your eyes. Don't think about it. Anticipate _savoring_ the fruit. _Trust me_, it's _that_ good."

Katara froze. His voice saying the words _Trust Me_ rang in her head. Slowly, she decided to release her face to the papaya—unmasking the smell. Automatically, she rapidly raised her hand again, aiming to protect her face, but Zuko gripped her wrist and held it down. Katara started fidgeting as he brought the papaya closer.

"Close your eyes, remember?" He said in a rather... _husky_ voice.

As she closed her eyes, he felt her arm relax. He took that as cue to let go and decided to hold her mouth open with his finger hooked under her chin and his thumb gently on it. The papaya was two inches away from her parted lips. It took him two seconds to focus...

But his concentration suddenly broke. Zuko froze as he started studying her features for who knows how long.

The smooth mocha of her skin; the deep sapphires under those long lashes; the small point of her nose; the fullness of her pink, parted lips; and now the heated scarlet that rushed to her cheeks—

"Zuko? What are you doing?" A curious Katara cracked one eye open.

He stumbled at his words. "H-hey! I-I said close your eyes!" And Katara hastily shut her peeking eye.

Zuko abruptly realized he was just four inches from her face—his own lips parted—and he could smell the sweet scent of her breath. He blinked his wide eyes twice before he hastily added eight more inches between their faces.

Zuko quickly popped the papaya square in her mouth. He let go of her and backed away slowly—only more so because of how dangerously close he got to her.

Katara made a sour face at first—

"Savor it!" Zuko reminded.

—but the freshness of its taste seemed to cool the burn in her cheeks.

"There you go. And then you swallow. Good girl," Zuko babied.

Katara hit him in the shoulder and glared, "I _knew_ what I was doing!" Hopefully, he didn't see the effort she put into keeping a straight face right then.

Zuko smirked at her, "Whatever. You're still giggling on the inside." Snapdragons, foiled again.

Katara pouted.

The silence that followed afterwards made Katara uncomfortable. _So what_ if he melted the cold shoulder she tried to give him earlier? Except, that wasn't the reason. She was uncomfortable because Zuko smiled a stupid smirk at her.

Zuko raised his eyebrow. "Well...?"

Katara shot him daggers. "Well, what?!" She snapped.

"Why are you being so cranky? It was barely a bite!"

Katara glared again and thought about what he said. It was true. She was being childish for no reason. It was just papaya. She ignored the fact that she hated it. Her shoulders slumped in defeat.

"Yeahitwasgood. Whatever," she mumbled rapidly as she made eye contact with the ground.

"...What?" Mocked Zuko. Oh yeah, she_ knew_ he heard her. He just wanted to hear her say it again.

Katara rolled her eyes at him. "It was... okay," she said more clearly.

Zuko did nothing but maintain that his clever smirk.

She threw her hands in the air. "It was good, alright? Delicious, even!" She confessed. "There! I said it," she added in a softer voice. "Now let's go buy some real food."

Katara whirled around and started stalking off towards other booths—an attempt to bury her cherry face in her hands; and to hide the huge smile plastered on her face.

Zuko soon followed suit—stupid grin still there—and popped in a papaya square every now and then. For every piece he tried savoring, it seemed like the best one was the one he gave her. He was oddly satisfied with the feeling.

* * *

Zuko looked up at the clear, blue sky. The sun was more aimed west, but it was still barely above their heads. Zuko started studying his shadow on the ground. After a moment's thought, he concluded: _Hmm... and hour or so before supper_.

Zuko gripped their basket of groceries tighter as Katara added another five pounds to the load.

Zuko groaned—not that the weight was too heavy for him, but, "What happened to _packing light_?" He thought out loud.

Katara took not one glimpse at him as she studied the bell peppers. "I need to get rid of the lingering papaya taste in my mouth."

Zuko rolled his eyes. "Oh, please. You know it wasn't that bad. You're so stubborn."

Her eyes narrowed at the yellow bellpepper—the glare was obviously meant for Zuko. "Shut up," finally said Katara.

Inwardly desperate to keep papaya off her mind, Katara quickly—and probably too quickly—changed the subject.

"So when do you suppose we'll get to Kyoshi Island?" She asked as she started towards the leafy greens.

Of course he noticed the change in subject, but Zuko went along with it anyway. He was honestly just glad that Katara was talking to him again. "Actually, we took much less time than I thought. I suppose we could leave early tomorrow morning. We'll get there probably around noon," he responded.

Katara shrugged. "Are we going to take the balloon or a boat or something...?"

"Flying's faster. But if you prefer to take a boat, I guess..."

Katara shot him an accusing look. "How would _you _know a balloon goes faster?" Noted, Katara ignored the fact that Zuko's own boat couldn't catch up to Aang in their chasing days.

"Whoa. I just—" He raised his arms, basket still hooked over his elbow, in innocence. "We'll take a boat, then. I suppose the air _is _thin up there, anyway. Considering this is the South Pole." Zuko started walking in another direction.

Katara nodded in satisfaction. And then realization hit her. "Wait, if we're leaving tomorrow morning, where are we staying?"

Zuko motioned her with one hand. "I'll show you. We're going there right now."

A dazed Katara decided to follow the Fire Lord—with a vague sense of deja vu.

* * *

Katara felt her jaw drop.

She'd seen this before. She swore to Yue and La that she'd seen this stupid house before.

"What's _this_?!" She asked, unbelievably.

Zuko cast her a confused look. "You look more mad than surprised. It's the Fire Lord's house—my house."

_You're house... You're house?!_ She repeated in her head.

Noted, the "house" _did_ look smaller than usual. Nonetheless, it was the same fancy ivory; the same delicate elegance—it was no ordinary snow hut, that's for sure.

But something was missing.

Where was that... that symbol—??

"It's not finished, yet," Zuko clarified, suddenly—as if he read her mind.

And then a middle-aged man appeared in the doorway. His nose was raised quite high. His eyes looked like he was searching for something behind Zuko. And when he spoke, he had the _strangest_ accent. "Fi-yah Lohd Zoo-koh, my Liege. Welcome to yoh Homble abode."

Zuko wasn't fazed. In fact, he looked more annoyed than amazed. "You can drop the accent, Po. Mai isn't with me anymore."

While Katara remained confused, Po nodded puntually. "Yes, sir."

"Mai liked to see things upscale," Zuko explained to Katara.

She tossed him an irked expression; Zuko just shrugged.

"Could you please call the others down? It'd be nice if they could greet me and my companion, here," requested Fire Lord Zuko.

"Sure thing, my Lord," Po finally responded casually. "Faye, Zeni, Kora!" He called within the foyer. "The Fire Lord is here with a guest!" He sang.

Within five seconds, the three hurried down and politely curtsied to their nobles.

"We're terribly sorry we weren't here earlier, my Lord," said the middle one on behalf of themselves. Their heads stayed lowered.

Zuko introduced them individually—and one by one, they straighted and smiled at Katara as he announced them: "This one's Faye. She's Zeni. And that's Kora. The chef, the maid, and the uhh...other maid—respectively, of course."

"Kora's new," clarified Zeni. Kora shyly showed a small smile—weakly keeping eye contact with the honored guest.

Katara nodded politely and thought the new one was cute. If anything, Katara was the real newcomer here. "You don't need to be afraid me, Kora. Zuko, here—I mean, _Fire Lord_ Zuko is far more terrifying than I could ever be."

"I beg to differ," a dignified Zuko remarked. Katara ignored him.

"Po is the manservant," said Faye unexpectedly.

Po glared daggers at her. "I prefer attendant," he reminded strictly.

"This is Katara. The Ambassador of the South Pole. And also one of my closest friends," Zuko announced, sincerely.

They all responded with "A pleasure to meet you, M'lady"—if only the atmosphere could've done without so much tension.

Zuko sighed. "Just spit it out, you guys."

"Well, if you don't mind us asking—" Faye started, but Zeni elbowed her before she could finish. Faye winced and clutched her side.

"I don't mind," resolved the Fire Lord. "Go on..." He insisted.

Kora broke the tension with an eager "What happened to Lady Mai?"

Zuko's lips immediately collapsed into a straight line. "Oh _her_," he said with a hint of venom, "She disappeared. She's not with me anymore. She's _long gone_."

The four of them formed an 'o' with their mouths. Katara stood there uncomfortably.

"That's a shame," said Po half-heartedly. He disliked her anyway. Her leaving was the best thing, yet.

"Oh yeah. _Terrible_ loss," replied Zuko with much less vigor and more distinct sarcasm. He started towards the entrance. Anything to get away from talking about _her_.

"We're actually on a mission to find her," added Katara awkwardly. The four seemed to drop their shoulders at this. (She even swore she saw Po roll his eyes.)

"That reminds me," Zuko called from the inside, "Faye, I'm setting these groceries in the kitchen. Would you make Katara and me some dinner? We'll only be staying for tonight."

"Yes, my Lord," answered Faye obediently as she hurried in.

"In that case, we'll need to prepare your rooms," offered Zeni.

"Excuse us, my Lady," said Kora, sheepishly. Zeni and Kora rushed into the house after Faye.

Only Po stayed afterwards to humbly hold the door open for Katara. She timidly stepped inside.

* * *

Katara widened her eyes at the sight in front of her. Shocked, surprised, aghast—whatever the word was, it was plain on Katara's face.

"Are you _kidding_ me?" In front her was a platter of smoked leopard-seal meat, decorated with cilantro and basil and—she didn't even know the rest—and the inviting lemony aroma. "You can cook _Water Tribe_ food?!" She finally spluttered. Faye hid her face bashfully.

"And more," Zuko added, proudly. "She was born here, but studied cuisine in the Fire Nation. Then she came back here to embrace her Water Tribe-ish culture. I hired her when they started construction of my house."

Faye shrugged shyly and grinned. "I try?" Kora giggled next to her.

The atmosphere was quite comfortable. Imagine a simple, yet classically-styled dining room. Notably far less royal, elegant and pretentious than the Fire Palace's—but with a warmer environment, and ornate all the while. The Fire Lord sat next to his most trusted companion, and they were laughing. His servants looked more like friends than the Fire Lord's lackeys—even as they were just standing around. It was plain in their interests: they'd take the sweet and friendly Katara over the big blah of Mai any day.

Zuko called Faye over to him. As she leaned down, he whispered something in her ear, all the while he looked at Katara and grinned. Faye nodded and smiled, then walked back into the kitchen.

Katara gave him a look, "What'd you tell her?"

"You'll see," said Zuko with knowing smirk.

Faye came bustling through the doors. In her hands was a silver platter of a pie. The flavor? Oh, Katara knew _exactly_ what it was.

After Faye set it on the table, Zuko kept the knowing grin pasted on his face and his eyes on Katara. Then he took a nice, healthy slice of the pie, and slapped it on her plate. Zuko raised his eyebrow in anticipation.

"Oh no," Katara said, suspectingly. "You wouldn't dare."

"I just did," challenged Zuko. He reached over to her plate with one finger, took a swipe of the fluffy, red-orangy filling and put it in his mouth. Zuko licked his lips.

Katara tried to control the heat rushing to her face as she stared after him. "You jerk," she said playfully. Katara took her fork and stabbed the slice, bringing to her a mouth a good size of it. With her face unfazed and a smirk on her lips, she swallowed. The room oohed.

Zuko and Katara broke their jesting tension with the hardest of laughs. The company joined in.

...

As the night came to a close, Zeni and Kora offered to help and escort the Fire Lord and his companion to their rooms—Leaving Po and Faye alone to talk amongst themselves.

"I like Katara more than Mai," declared Faye with a smile as she looked after their leaving figures.

"Scratch that," exclaimed a disgusted Po, "I never even _liked_ Mai. Fire Lord Zuko made an excellent choice."

"What?" Uttered Faye, half-surprised. "You really think they're together? He simply calls her a companion."

"His _most trusted_ companion, mind you," Po asserted. "You _know _there's something brewing between them. Besides, have you seen the way he looks at her? As if she's the brightest and _only_ light in the dark world of politics. And that's the darkest world there is. He's so smitten, he has no idea."

Faye considered his words. "I suppose. They _do_ make a lovely couple. Their attraction is so... unyielding—electrifying, even." Faye fantasized romantically. "But last I heard, Ambassador Katara was with the Avatar." She frowned at the situation.

"_That_ Kid?" Speculated Po. "No offense, but I've noticed she was more of a mother to him than anything. And the word around town is: the Avatar was last seen in Ember Island with that blind earthbender girl. Toph Bei Fong. At least, that's what I've heard from a Fire Nation sailor who came from there." He shrugged.

"Bei Fong? Prestigious surname." She paused. "Oh, what gambling the spirits are playing on our young leaders these days. Whatever the case, we shouldn't question it."

"I'm still rooting for Fire Lord Zuko," said an unrelenting Po.

"What are you, a gambler in the ostrich-horse races? Don't count your pigkens before they hatch. Keep your opinion on your side."

Po shrugged. "It won't be an opinion for long..."

* * *

**Yeeeahh!! Longest chapter! I admit, it was kind of OOC. Sorry xP I try to keep it in-character as much as I can to make it seem more canon-ish. I just can't help myself to the fluffiness.**

**I want Papaya Pie :D Oh, and pigkens are a mix of pigs and chickens. Remember seeing one in the episode _Zuko Alone_? :D**

**Anyway, you guys have read my first note right? RIIIIIIIGHT?? Those are important Dx !! So I'm not repeating myself.**

**REVIEW! REVIEW!! REVIEW!!! I liked writing this one. Lots of fluffiness. You GOTTA tell me how much you loved the fluffiness B]**

**-Kaitarine**

**(I'm sorry I keep changing my penname. I just like doing that :D)**


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